A Filthy Rat
by Shiny Snicket
Summary: Peter Pettigrew is a filthy rat. He betrayed his friends and, in his eyes, the only way to redeem himself is to raise Harry Potter in secret. Of course, keeping that secret is difficult when it is time to send Harry to Hogwarts. If only Harry knew that the man who bought him up was the man who got his parents killed.
1. The Traitor

**Author's Note:** The majority of this AU fic takes place during Harry's Hogwarts years, but the first chapter is set the year of the first fall of Voldemort. I intend to make this a series out of this and I've already written the a good few chapters so you can be assured that I won't abandon this after the first couple of chapters. With that said, enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _'Harry Potter'_.

* * *

October 24 1981, Godric's Hollow

"Sit down, Peter," Lily Potter said invitingly as Peter Pettigrew walked into the living room of the Potter home in the simple village of Godric's Hollow.

Peter looked at the faces of his friends, the Potters. James and Lily both had serious looks on their faces and Peter began to worry. What if they were beginning to suspect that Peter was in fact spying on them for Lord Voldemort? What if they called him here to confront him about it? Peter subconsciously held his left forearm in his right hand, knowing that if James and Lily saw that Dark Mark that was burned onto his skin, his secret would be out forever. They would see Peter as he truly was, a filthy traitor with no honour.

"We've been friends for a long time, Wormtail," James began, "and friends can always trust each other, right?"

They know. Peter's hands trembled as he nodded. He hoped against hope that he had misinterpreted the situation and the Potters were still ignorant of Peter's allegiance to the Dark Lord. If they knew the truth, he would lose everything.

"We've been talking with Sirius and we have decided... that we want you to be our Secret Keeper." The words came out of James' mouth and Peter's simply stared at his best friend in surprise.

"Me?" Peter couldn't believe his ears. Surely Sirius would have been the obvious choice. Sirius Black was like a brother to James and Peter couldn't imagine James ever doubting Sirius' loyalty. Not even for a second. "I thought you were going to make Sirius your Secret Keeper."

"We were," explained Lily, "but Sirius told us that he was too obvious and he had a point. We need someone whom we can trust entirely, but we also need someone who Voldemort would never suspect. You tick both boxes. That's why we decided that it would be better to switch to you at the last minute."

Peter flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. He was the only Marauder who couldn't say that name. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't allow those three syllables to escape his lips.

"What about Remus?" asked Peter, referring to Remus Lupin. Remus Lupin was a werewolf who was a good friend to both James and Lily.

"Sirius has some absurd theory that he's spying on us," Lily told Peter, "We told him that we would trust Remus with our lives, but he didn't listen. We decided to give the baby his bottle and choose you instead."

Peter was still reluctant to accept the position. He never wanted to be directly responsible for his friends' deaths. When he joined the Dark Lord, all he wanted to do was have somebody powerful protecting him. That was who Peter was. He was the coward who clinged to the most powerful ally he could find.

"But... are you sure?" Peter asked. He actually hoped that James and Lily would say no, because Peter knew that he would give away his friends' location to Lord Voldemort. He wasn't brave enough to keep the secret. He preyed for their own sake that James and Lily would change their minds again and make Sirius their Secret Keeper as they had originally planned.

"Yes Peter, we're sure" confirmed James. "You're one of us and we know you would never sell us out to Voldemort. Marauders honour, right?"

Peter hesitantly nodded his head, accepting the fact that he would have to choose between the lives of his best friends or his position as one of Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters. He already knew which option he would choose and he hated himself for that.

"So will you do it?" Lily asked, her beautiful emerald eyes looking hopefully into Peter's dull blue ones. "Will you be our secret keeper, Peter?"

Peter held back a sigh. There was no turning back now.

"Yes," he replied, "Of course I will."

James smiled at his friend, proud that his friends was willing to take such a risk for him. If only he knew the truth. Peter intended to take the information on the Potters' whereabouts straight to the Dark Lord. By trusting Peter, James and Lily Potter had just signed their own death warrants.

* * *

October 30 1981, Riddle House

Lord Voldemort looked down at Peter Pettigrew with disgust, his deep red eyes staring at the traitor as if he were vermin. He took a few steps towards Peter and asked him the question.

"I grow impatient, Wormtail. Tell me... Have you discovered who the Potters, your former freinds, have chosen to be their Secret-Keeper?"

Peter reluctantly answered, "Yes, Your Lordship."

A silence followed.

"Well! Tell me, Wormtail!" Voldemort snarled.

Peter was terrified of the Dark Lord. He was visibly shaking as his mouth betrayed him, blurting out the words, "They chose me. I am the Potters' Secret Keeper."

Voldemort laughed loudly, "The fools! They have made things so much easier for me. Reveal to me the secret, Wormtail. Where are James and Lily Potter hiding?"

Peter didn't answer at first. He simply stood on the spot, frozen with fear as he looked up at the most dangerous dark lord the world has ever known.

"I tire of your hesitation, Wormtail. Crucio!" Voldemort spat.

Peter counted his blessings that Voldemort released the curse after only a few seconds. That was just a warning curse. The next one would be much worse. Peter then made the mistake of asking the Dark Lord a question, rather than heeding the warning and telling him the Potters' location immediately.

"You won't hurt James or Lily, right?" he stuttered. "It's only Harry you want!"

Voldemort rolled his eyes in a way that Peter had never imagined he would see from the Dark Lord. It reminded him of James, which made the following Cruciatus Curse all the more painful.

"CRUCIO!"

Peter dropped to his knees and shrieked in pain as he was hit by Voldemort's Cruciatus Curse. Voldemort mercilessly watched as his most pathetic follower screamed. He eventually stopped the curse and, without giving Peter any time to regain his composure, asked him the same question again.

"Let's try that again. Where are the Potters?" he asked calmly.

Wormtail groggily stood up, gasping for breath. "The residence... of the Potter family... can be found at number three... Godric's Hollow... West Country."

Voldemort let out a satisfied laugh as Peter's eyes filled with tears. He knew that he had just doomed his friends, the only people to ever accept him.

Voldemort exited the room to prepare for the attack. Peter knew that it was over for the Potters. Whenever he pleased, Voldemort could simply stroll out of the range of the Anti-Apparition wards and Apparate straight to Godric's Hollow, where he would kill the child from the prophecy as well as his parents.

* * *

October 31 1981, Godric's Hollow

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off –" The sounds of someone stumbling from a room – a door bursting open – a cackly of high pitched laughter – Lord Voldemort was here.

Lily Potter ran after her husband and took hold of his arm. "James... This means that Peter-"

"Was the spy all along," James finished regretfully, "I know."

The Potters heard a loud noise as Voldemort blasted his way through another door. He was almost there.

"Please go, Lily." James begged his wife.

"No! I can't leave you!" she protested.

"Think about Harry. Someone needs to get our son out of here safely. Please!"

Lily submitted, giving James a quick kiss, before turning around and running as fast as she could towards Harry's room.

James turned to face Lord Voldemort, who simply smirked. James extended his arm, pointing his mahogany wand at the Dark Lord. Voldemort similarly pointed his phoenix tail wand at James. James prepared to fight to the death.

Voldemort cast a non-verbal Blasting Curse, which James just barely managed to dodge. The curse caused a vase behind Jame to explode into flames.

James tried to fight back, trying to stun Voldemort. "Stupefy!"

Voldemort effortlessly set up a shield and blocked the stunning spell. He then raised his wand and screamed out the two words, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

James Potter used his last thoughts to prey that Lily and Harry would escape from the cottage with their lives intact. He then fell down to the floor with his eyes open, yet still. Voldemort looked down at James' body and smirked. He moved on in search of Harry, the child who was prophecised to defeat him.

"Bombarda Maxima!" Voldemort cast a spell, forming a hole in the wall large enough for him to walk through, right into Harry's bedroom. The one-year-old child sat in his crib, with Lily Potter standing between him and Voldemort, with tear in her eyes.

Voldemort raised his wand. Lily screamed.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside now!"

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead!"

Voldemort sighed. "I gave you a chance, you pathetic Mudblood."

"Not Harry! Please! Have mercy! Have mercy!"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Neither Lily nor Voldemort noticed that Peter Pettigrew was in fact hidden in the corner of that very room. He was good at not being noticed. While it may sound useless at first, having a rat as an Animagus form can have its uses. Peter was the only one who witnessed what happened next. Voldemort's Killing Curse rebounded. Soon, Lily Potter was dead and Lord Voldemort's soul was ripped from his body, seemingly dead.

Peter returned to human form and walked up to Harry's crib. The young child was crying loudly. He was unharmed, aside from a scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt. Somehow, this child had defeated the most dangerous dark lord in history, just as the prophecy had predicted.

Peter picked Harry up and soon started to cry himself. He looked at the innocent baby who would be forced to grow up without parents... and it was all Peter's fault. Thanks to the cowardice of Peter Pettigrew, Harry James Potter would have to grow up as an orphan. Peter began to walk out of the cottage with Harry still in his arms.

On the way, he passed James' body. He lowered his head in shame.

"James," he uttered, as if James could actually hear him. "It's all my fault. I'm so, so sorry."

Peter then looked directly into Harry's eyes, green like his mother's. "I'll make up for it. I'll make sure that Harry Potter does grow up with a father."

Peter completed his journey out of the house before Apparating away, taking a still crying Harry with him.

* * *

Sirius Orion Black arrived at Godric's Hollow to see the Potters' house in ruins. He instantly knew that something was wrong. He entered the house and to his surprise, he saw Rubeus Hagrid standing inside, wiping tears off his cheeks. Hagrid was a half-giant and the keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Hagrid?" he said in confusion, "Where are... James... Lily... Are they safe?"

"Sirius... I didn' see yeh coming in..." Hagrid stated.

"Why are you here? Are they okay?" Sirius had gone so pale that his face was almost completely white.

"Dumbledore sen' me. I don' see the point. James an' Lily are dead and there's notin' left o' poor Harry. That monster!"

Sirius rudely turned around and left. He knew that there was only one thing to do. He had to track that traitor, Peter Pettigrew, and kill him. Sirius lost a brother that night and he was out for revenge.

* * *

November 1 1981, A Muggle Street

Peter Pettigrew was running across a Muggle street in rat form. He had already dropped Harry off at an Unplottable hiding place. He needed to get some groceries and he couldn't risk going back into the Wizarding world. He found an empty corner where nobody could see him and discretely transformed back into his human self. He walked around the corner and immediately came face to face with a livid Sirius Black.

"Found you!" Black announced, "You traitor! You filthy rat!"

Peter came up with a plan at the spur of the moment, something that didn't happen to him too often. "Black! How could you do it! How could you kill Lily and James?"

This question made Sirius even more furious. "WHAT! HOW COULD **I** KILL THEM! HOW COULD **YOU** K-"

Peter interrupted him, "Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?"

Sirius began to respond, "You filthy r-"

Suddenly, Peter cast a powerful Blasting Curse, killing twelve Muggles who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sirius barely managed to dive out of harm's way.

Taking advantage of the chaos around him, Peter reached into his pocket and took out a pocket knife. He held up his right hand and used his left hand to cut off his right index finger. He screamed in pain as the finger detached itself from his hand. He then transformed into a rat and escaped. Sirius recovered from the chaos and sent a non-verbal curse in Peter's direction, but the rat easily evaded it and escaped.

Later, Aurors began to arrive one by one in the area. The Muggle witnesses were Obliviated and Sirius Black was taken to Azkaban prison without a trial, believed to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper.

* * *

November 2 1981, Murray Manor

Peter Pettigrew Apparated into Murray Manor, the manor of his mother's family. Mrs Pettigrew's maiden name was Murray, but she never set foot in Murray Manor after she came of age. She disapproved of her family, most of whom were dark wizard followers, who bowed down to Lord Voldemort when he first rose to power, as well as to Gellert Grindelwald back in the old days.

Mrs Pettigrew always made sure that Peter had nothing to do with his family on the Murray side. When Peter Apparated to Murray Manor to drop Harry off there, he was pleased to learn that the wards accepted him, being a blood relative of the Murrays. Apart from Mrs Pettigrew, who would have been informed of Peter's so-called death by now, the Murray family was completely dead. The last of them was killed by the Auror, Alastor Moody, two years ago. Now Peter was sure that nobody would find him there, especially now that the world thinks he is dead.

He explored the house in depth for the first time and he concluded that this would be a fine place to raise a child.

A Death Eater was going to raise the one who vanquished the Dark Lord.


	2. The Victims' Son

**Author's Note:** Thanks a lot for reviewing, Madokaism and Smithback. I fixed the mistake with Grindelwald's name. Somehow, I've always read it as Gallert. Anyway, here's the second chapter. It's going to show you some flashes of Harry's childhood and afterwards, the story will focus on Harry's first year at Hogwarts. I hope you enjoy it.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _'Harry Potter'_.

* * *

October 31 1984, Murray Manor

It was the anniversary of Harry's parents' deaths. Three years ago, Harry was rendered an orphan by Peter Pettigrew's cowardice and lack of loyalty to his friends. Peter felt a sick feeling of regret in his stomach every time he looked at Harry on this date. The poor child had no idea that the man who was raising him was, in effect, his parents' murderer. The date meant nothing to this four-year-old child, who did not yet know the story behind his parents' demise. Harry enjoyed Halloween in blissful ignorance, which was the way Peter preferred it. The four-year-old boy jumped out of his room, covered by a white bed sheet to make him look like a ghost.

"BOO!" Harry shouted at the top of his lungs.

Peter, who was too deep in thought to see Harry coming, took a jump backwards, genuinely shocked by Harry sneaky prank. He eventually laughed it off and patted young Harry on the head gently.

"I fooled you," the boy stated matter-of-factly with a devious smirk on his face.

Peter smiled fondly, "Yes, you did. Your father used to pull pranks like that all the time."

As soon as the word escaped Peter's lips, he regretted them. Harry looked up at Peter with a look of wonder in his emerald eyes, shining just as Lily's used to do. Peter knew that questions would soon be asked. Harry didn't know anything about what happened to his parents and naturally, he would be curious about it.

"What happened to him?" Harry asked curiously.

Peter frowned, "I... knew your father, like I told you before. We went to school together and we were friends. When you were tiny, your house was attacked by a bad wizard. He killed them."

"Why?" Harry asked, hugging the man who had been raising him for the past three years.

"He was a bad man, that's all. A very bad wizard. They tried hiding, but one of their friends told the bad man where they were. He betrayed them."

"Who was he?" asked Harry, referring to the friend who betrayed the Potters.

For a moment, Peter considered telling Harry the truth, that the traitor in question was Peter himself. He dismissed the idea almost immediately. Harry would certainly turn away from Peter if he knew what really happened. Raising Harry was the one thing that Peter was doing right in his life. He was making amends for what he did to James and Lily, who now lied underground in the graveyard at Godric's Hollow, as well as Harry's godfather, Sirius, who was still in Azkaban, facing the agony of the Dementors every day.

"His name was Sirius Black," Peter lied, "He was my friend too. The three of us, as well as someone called Remus, were friends since we first went to Hogwarts. We called ourselves the Marauders. Sirius betrayed your parents and got them killed."

Harry began to cry and held on to Peter tighter, "What happened to him?"

"I went after him and tried to avenge your parents, but Sirius was stronger than me. He sent out a curse that made me lose my finger," Peter explained, showing Harry his right hand, "He's in prison now. He's never coming out. The whole world thinks that he killed me."

"People think you're dead?" asked Harry.

"People think that you are dead too, Harry" Peter replied, "When the bad wizard tried to kill you, the curse backfired on him. Nobody knows why. You're famous. That's why we can't tell anybody who we are. We need people to think that we're dead, or the bad wizard's followers will come after us. We have to keep our lives a secret for our own safety."

Harry nodded, understanding the situation. He asked one more question.

"What was the bad wizard's name?"

Peter hesitated, "His name was V- Vo- His name was... Vold-"

Peter then looked into Harry's eyes, hoping that his unofficially adopted son would give him the strength to say his former master's name without fear. In the end, Peter admitted defeat.

"His name was You-Know-Who, or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Harry nodded and picked up the bed sheets off the floor. Peter decided that it was best that Harry knew the official, albeit wrong, version of what happened three years ago on this date. Harry, like the world, thought that the traitor was Sirius Black, who was justly locked up in Azkaban prison. The guilt almost killed Peter, but he reminded himself that this was Peter's chance to start again with a clean record. Harry was almost a new version of James, who could not judge him for his past mistakes. It was a second chance he didn't deserve, but he took it nonetheless. It gave him a reason to keep on living. Without Harry, Peter had nothing.

* * *

July 31 1987, Murray Manor

It was Harry Potter's seventh birthday and the he was certainly in high spirits. As a present, Peter had given him his first broomstick, a Comet 260, in hopes that he would inherit his father's flying skills. Harry had always wanted to fly, but Peter refused for Harry's own safety. Today, however, Peter gave Harry the broom as a surprise present on the condition that he never flies outside the range of Murray Manor's wards. Harry happily agreed to these terms.

"I have a broomstick! I have a broomstick!" he shouted with a jubilant look on his face.

"Yes," started Peter, "but you'll be careful when you're flying on it, won't you?"

"Yes. I promise," replied Harry, a massive grin still present on his face.

"And you'll never go outside the wards, right?" continued Peter.

"Of course not. Never!" said Harry, eager to get on the broom for the first time.

"Then let's go out and see how good you are," said Peter, glad to see Harry in such a good mood.

They went outside and Peter taught Harry how to fly. It was only a matter of minutes before Harry could fly better than Peter. However, that wasn't saying much. Peter was always a disaster on a broom. Nonetheless, he was happy to see that Harry had natural talent, just like James. He really was like a younger version of James, Peter thought. Harry performed dangerous dives that made Peter flinch every time, thinking that Harry as going to his the ground. However, Harry always pulled himself up right on time. He was showing skills that some people with years of practice and experience didn't possess.

"That was very good, Harry. You're a natural, just like your father. When you go to Hogwarts, everybody will be jealous that you're such a good flier" Peter told him.

Harry's eyes lit up even more, "Hogwarts? I'm going there? But everyone thinks I'm dead."

"They do," started Peter, "but we have four years to plan for this. I promise the I'll find a way for you to attend Hogwarts. I will think of something."

Peter had given this much thought over the years and decided that going to Hogwarts was such a magical, important experience in a child's life that he couldn't bring himself to deprive Harry of it. Even though James would have been horrified at the thought of Harry being brought up by a traitor like Peter, he would have wanted Harry to go to Hogwarts like his parents. Peter couldn't let Harry grow up without having stories to tell about pranks, poltergeists, classes, mean professors, feasts, ghosts and living portraits. It was a fundamental part of a wizard's childhood and Peter wanted Harry to experience it.

"Do you promise?" asked Harry hopefully.

Peter hesitated. He looked at Harry and he couldn't say no. Harry seemed to have more power over Peter than Voldemort ever did, but Peter didn't mind that at all. He answered honestly. "Yes. I promise."

He made a promise not only to Harry, but to himself. He would find a way... Somehow.

* * *

September 1 1990, Murray Manor

It was the first day of September and that meant one thing. The Hogwarts Express would be leaving King's Cross station today. Harry was ten years old, so he was too young to go. However, this date still held significance to him. It was a milestone of sorts for Harry. It marked one year until the day that he would be allowed to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He simply couldn't wait.

"Just one more year," the boy said in awe, trying to come to terms with it himself.

"That's right," responded Peter, "One more year."

With the whole world thinking that he was dead, Harry only had Muggles as friends growing up. While his friends were very important to him, he couldn't wait to meet his own kind. The only other magical person he knew was Peter. He had never met any witches or wizards of his own age. Aside from that, he couldn't wait to learn magic. He had read books on Charms, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts in the Murray Library, but that was just theory. He didn't have a wand yet, so he couldn't try out the spells himself. The only classes he could really prepare for in the library were classes like History of Magic, Herbology and to a certain extent, Potions. Apart from Herbology, he found them all hopelessly boring and tedious.

"Have you figured out how I'm going to go to Hogwarts yet?" asked Harry, hoping for confirmation that he would in fact be going.

"No," admitted Peter, "but you don't need to worry about it. I made you a promise years ago and I will keep it. I'll find a way for you to go to Hogwarts."

Accepting Peter's word on the matter, Harry ran off excitedly. Peter had actually begun to formulate a plan to get Harry into Hogwarts. However, he didn't want to tell Harry about it until he was absolutely sure that it would work.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" asked Peter.

"Packing!" Peter heard Harry's voice coming from his bedroom.

"You've still got another year to go, Harry!" Peter shouted, evidently amused.

"Can't pack too early!" replied Harry.

Peter smiled. He had always hoped that Harry's personality would be like James', but Harry turned out to be more fun than even James ever was. Peter felt a pang of guilt after thinking about James like that after what he did to them. However, he forgave himself. This is Harry I'm thinking about. Who could possibly be more fun than him?

* * *

July 17 1991, Deputy Headmistress' Office, Hogwarts

Professor Minerva McGonagall was the Transfiguration Professor, Head of Gryffindor House and Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts. She was in her office, looking through the Hogwarts letters which would be sent to the new students this year. They were not to be sent for a week, but Professor McGonagall was an organised woman. She decided to sort through them now in case there were any complications.

She sighed as she noticed that the name of Draco Malfoy was on one of the letters. She remembered having to deal with his father, Lucius Malfoy, many years ago. She was not looking forward to meeting his son. She also noticed two girls with the same surname, Padma and Parvati Patil. They must be twins, she decided. She hoped that they wouldn't be nearly as troublesome as the dreaded Weasley twins. Speaking of the Weasleys, she noticed that there would be another Weasley joining the student body this year, Ron Weasley. Professor McGonagall then glanced at another letter and dropped it in shock when she noticed the name on it.

**"Harry James Potter" **

Professor McGonagall picked the letter up and left her office. She walked over to the office of the Headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore.

"Password?" asked the polite stone gargoyle, which was guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Jelly babies," she muttered, embarrassed to be using yet another one of Dumbledore's ridiculous passwords. That man had some sort of obsession with Muggle sweets.

The gargoyle acknowledged the correct password and slid to the side, allowing the stern professor to access the spiral staircase to Dumbledore's office.

"Ah, Minerva," said the headmaster, "Please do sit down. What can I do for you? Lemon drop?"

"No thank you, Albus," Professor McGonagall refused Dumbledore's offer as she always did, "I was looking through the Hogwarts letters for this year."

Dumbledore smiled, "Already? You always were on top of things, Minerva."

"Anyway," continued Professor McGonagall, "I came across a name that can't be... He can't still be..."

She paused.

"Yes?" prompted Dumbledore.

"You should see this for yourself." she said, handing the letter over to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's eyebrows raised as soon as he saw the name on the letter. His heart skipped a beat. Could the son of James and Lily Potter really be still alive after all these years? How could he not have noticed? Dumbledore always noticed... everything! Why didn't he notice this? A thousand questions ran through Dumbledore's head as Professor McGonagall waited patiently for a response from the headmaster, who was still in shock.

Dumbledore hesitated, "Could it be?"

Professor McGonagall took the letter back from Dumbledore and looked at the name again herself. She still couldn't believe it herself. "Does this mean what I think it means, Albus?"

Dumbledore nodded, "It does."

"How is this possible?" the Transfiguration professor asked, "Surely we'd knew if he survived?"

"I don't know how it happened," Dumbledore began, "But somehow... Harry Potter survived Lord Voldemort's attack on Godric's Hollow. He has been alive all this time... But where?"

Professor McGonagall stood up and gave her answer to the headmaster's very relevant question, "I guess we have no choice but to wait and find out when the school year begins. Whatever happens, I am sure it will be quite a tale. If you'll excuse me, Albus, I think it's time I retired to my quarters for the night."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite," said a chuckling headmaster as Professor McGonagall left the office. Dumbledore happily popped a lemon drop into his mouth, laughing at his own joke. "Haha... bedbugs."


	3. Happy Birthday

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews everyone. The thing with the italics is sort of instinctive for me. After some thought, I've decided to get rid of it. If it deters people from reading the fic, then it's probably best left out. Anyway, enjoy the chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _'Harry Potter'_.

* * *

July 24 1991, Murray Manor

Peter looked out of the window and spotted a brown owl heading in the direction of Murray Manor. Usually, such a sight would be a cause of alarm. However, Peter was expecting this owl to arrive. The owl dropped a letter and Peter was quick to catch it as the owl flew away. Peter looked closely at the letter and saw the familiar purple wax seal, depicting a coat of arms, which featured a lion, a serpent, an eagle and a badger. In green ink, Harry Potter's name was written on the letter. However, there was no sign of an address. That was proof that the manor was in fact Unplottable. Peter was relieved. It would have been awfully embarrassing to discover that for all these years, the manor was unprotected and even a Muggle could have found him without any difficulty whatsoever.

Peter smiled at the thought of how happy Harry would be when he found out that his Hogwarts letter had just arrived. Going to Hogwarts was the one thing that Harry looked forward to more than everything. Four years ago, Peter promised Harry that he would find a way to get him into Hogwarts. Harry had been mentally preparing for his time as a student for years. He could finally get to meet other magical people his own age. He could get a wand of his own and learn how to use and control magic. The very thought of this filled Harry's eyes with wonder and excitement.

Peter walked over to Harry's bedroom and knocked on the door. After a few seconds passed, the door opened and Harry came out.

"What is it?"

Peter smiled. "I just thought I'd let you know that an owl came by a minute ago."

"An owl?" Harry looked confused.

"Yes, an owl." Peter told him. "It had a letter for you."

"What kind of letter?"asked Harry, beginning to suspect the truth. He did not dare to let his hopes go up too high.

"Oh... nothing special. Just your Hogwarts letter."Peter revealed casually.

To say the least, Harry was over the moon. He was literally jumping for joy and Peter couldn't stop himself from laughing.

"I'm going to Hogwarts!" Harry declared.

"Indeed you are, Harry." Peter confirmed.

Harry started laughing uncontrollably. However, his laughing stopped as a thought suddenly entered his head. Peter began to worry as he noticed that Harry's wide grin gradually declined into a frown. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"What's wrong?"asked a concerned Peter.

"I just realised," Harry began, "if they sent us that letter, then they must know that I'm alive. If they knew where to send it to, then they would have worked out that you're alive too. They know everything. What should we do?"

"Harry, it's okay." explained Peter. "The headmaster doesn't tell the owls where to send the Hogwarts letters. The magic of the school itself guides the owls to any magical children in Britain who the right age to attend Hogwarts. They don't know where we are."

"They don't?"asked Harry, calming down significantly.

"They don't" confirmed Peter. "I'm assuming they have some sort of list of new students, so they probably know now that you're still alive. They don't know that I'm alive though and they have absolutely no idea where we are. If they knew everything, then we would have heard about it by now. I'm certain of that."

"But if I'm really famous, won't people start asking me who raised me?" Harry asked. "What should I tell them? People will find out sooner or later."

"Don't worry about that," Peter told him. "Harry Potter won't show up at Hogwarts. He won't show any sign that he even received his Hogwarts letter. Meanwhile, an American boy and his father will move to Britain just in time to start the school year, but too late to receive a letter with the rest of the new students. They will talk to the headmaster and ask if the boy can start school with the rest of the students his age. The headmaster, not knowing that they boy is in fact Harry Potter under a Glamour Charm, will grant him his request. Problem solved."

"Glamour Charms?" asked Harry, who had read about these charms in the Murray Library. "As in appearance-changing charms?"

"Exactly," said Peter, "I've been researching how to apply them all year. I'm not a very fast learner, especially not on my own, but I think I've finally managed to perfect them. I can put you under a disguise so you can go to Hogwarts without attracting any unwanted attention."

"Really?" asked Harry in wonder, "Ooh, can I be blond? Can I have an oddly-shaped nose and a mole?"

"Why would you want a mole?" asked Peter curiously.

"Why wouldn't I?" asked Harry in retaliation.

Peter laughed and Harry soon joined in. Harry was in a spectacularly good mood now that it was official. He was going to Hogwarts. It was happening. After years of waiting, he could finally go to school. He could learn magic and meet wizards and witches his own age for the first time in his life. He imagined the splendour of his new school and he hoped that it would live up to his expectations. In just over a month, Harry would at last get to live his dream.

* * *

July 24 1991, Granger Household

The twenty-fourth of July was an ordinary day in the life of Hermione Jean Granger until the visitor arrived. The doorbell in her house rang and her father answered. The visitor was a stern-looking woman, wearing a pointy hat as well as what seemed to be robes. Mr Granger looked at her clothes in confusion.

"Excuse me, would you be Mr Granger?" asked the visitor.

"Yes," answered Mr Granger, "and who might you be?"

"May I come in?" asked the visitor politely. "I have matters to discuss with you concerning your daughter."

"Okay... Come in then, I guess." Mr Granger moved aside and allowed the stranger to enter his home.

At that moment, Mrs Granger came down the stairs with Hermione behind her. They both seemed perplexed as they noticed the visitor in the strange, pointed hat. Anyone else who wore what she was wearing would look utterly ridiculous, but the stern look in her face made it still possible to take her seriously. Mrs Granger walked up to the visitor.

"Who is this?" Mrs Granger asked.

"I'm Professor Minerva McGonagall," the visitor introduced herself. "I am the deputy headmistress of a very prestigious school and we were hoping that your daughter would agree to enroll in our school."

"Which school would this be?" asked Mr Granger.

"The school is question is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." she announced.

Mr and Mrs Granger both chuckled as Hermione continued to look on in confusion.

"I assure you, I am used to the skepticism," she told the Grangers, "so I am prepared to prove it to you, if you don't mind."

She held out some sort of wooden stick and waved it around, saying words which seemed like gibberish to Hermione. "Wingardium Leviosa."

Mrs Granger jumped in fright when a lamp in the corner of the room hovered above the table. Mr Granger turned pale, looking as if he were going to faint. Hermione couldn't believe her own eyes. She was a girl of reason. There had to be a rational explanation for this. Had the professor attached strings onto the lamp? No, that would have been impossible. Mr Granger had been with the woman since she entered the house. He would have seen her attach the string. Hermione tried to keep an open mind. _Could it be real? Real magic?_

Apparently, Mr Granger had been thinking the same thing as Hermione. He felt around the lamp, searching for strings. His search was unsuccessful. After the three Grangers were satisfied with her proof, Professor McGonagall lowered her mysterious stick and the lamp dropped back into its original position.

Mrs Granger was the first to regain her breath.

"How of Earth did you do that?" she asked in wonder.

"It is called the Levitation Charm." Professor McGonagall revealed. "It is one of the many things which your daughter will learn to do if she chooses to attend Hogwarts."

Hermione then spoke to Professor McGonagall for the first time, "This whole magic thing... It's real... Isn't it?"

The corners of Professor McGonagall's mouth pointed upwards in a very slight smile. "Yes, it is."

"You should be very happy for your daughter." said Professor McGonagall. "Only a very small percentage of the world's population has the abilities that she has."

"Can I go to that school?" Hermione asked her parents with excitement.

"Well," began Mr Granger, "if this isn't some sort of practical joke and we can be assured that Hogwarts is a serious school that will help you reach your full potential in life... then I don't see why not."

Hermione smiled as Professor McGonagall handed her a letter, congratulated her, explained some of the finer details of Hogwarts and left. The Grangers were left stunned in their living room.

"Right," started Mr Granger, "I think we all need some tea to calm ourselves down. Who's up for a cup of chamomile?"

* * *

July 31 1991, Murray Manor

It was Harry Potter's eleventh birthday and there was only a month left until he was to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Peter had already given Harry some very good presents, such as a broomstick servicing kit, a box of chocolate frogs and a few useful books for him to bring with him to school. Harry's personal favourite was _Hogwarts: A History_. He was fascinated by this school and he wanted to learn everything he could about it. Despite the lengthiness of the book, he was sure that he would have it read cover to cover by the end of the week.

Once it looked like the gift giving was over, Peter revealed that he had a surprise extra present for Harry.

"Another present? What is it?" asked Harry excitedly.

"Since you're going to school in a month's time," started Peter, "I think it's time we went to Diagon Alley to get your supplies. Books, equipment and the likes. What do you think?"

Harry paused, "But we don't even know if I'm going yet. I thought we needed to talk to the headmaster to get me a spot in the school. We don't know if he'll let me join."

"He will," Peter vowed. "The headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, is the same man who was headmaster when I was in school. I know him. As long as we're polite to him and we don't look suspicious, we'll get you in. Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?" asked Harry.

"Positive," replied Peter. "We need to practise going around in Glamour Charms before we see Dumbledore. We need to get into character. A birthday trip to Diagon Alley would be perfect for that. We can't talk to him right now because we want to drop in at the last minute so he has no time to research your background."

"Okay," Harry smiled, "Are we going now?"

"As soon as we get the Glamour Charms sorted," answered Peter.

Harry and Peter spent the next twenty minutes applying numerous Glamour Charms and deciding which ones to use on their trip to Diagon Alley. Harry ended up having light brown hair and blue eyes similar to those of Peter. Peter, after much argument, agreed to give Harry a mole on the side of his neck. Peter gave himself blond hair and made both himself and Harry considerably more tanned. After Harry made a couple of cheeky comments about Peter's new look, Peter repayed him by making his hair bright pink. He refused to reverse the change until Harry gave an insincere apology.

"Ready to go?" asked Peter.

Harry nodded enthusiastically and they left for Diagon Alley.

* * *

July 31 1991, Granger Household

If there was one person who waited for the start of the school year with as much impatience as Harry, it was Hermione Jean Granger. Hermione had only learned that the Wizarding world existed a week ago when Professor McGonagall arrived at her house to explain magic to her and her family. Even now, she struggled to come to terms with the fact that she would soon be going to a school of magic.

"Okay," Mrs Granger said aloud, "Professor McGonagall's letter describes how to get into this Diagon Alley place. It looks rather complicated but I'm sure we'll manage."

"Yes," agreed Mr Granger, "Are you ready to go, Hermione?"

"Just a minute," replied Hermione as she read over the letter one more time. "Okay, I'm ready."

Preparing for whatever surprises might be waiting for her in Diagon Alley, Hermione left the house with her parent, ready to buy supplies for her first year in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Just the thought of a school for magic was wondrous for Hermione. As her father drove her to the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione tried to imagine what the Wizarding community could possibly be like.


	4. Diagon Alley

**Author's Note:** Here's the fourth chapter. Thanks again for the reviews.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _'Harry Potter'_.

* * *

July 31 1991, Leaky Cauldron

Peter Pettigrew look around him, making sure that nobody was in hearing distance from him and Harry. After he was satisfied, he leaned towards Harry and whispered.

"So do you remember everything about your alias?" Peter asked. "Your name is Harry Owens and I am your father, Peter Owens. I figured we could keep our first names as we both have quite common names. We just arrived from the USA and we're here to get your supplies for Hogwarts."

Harry nodded, but frowned. He was entering Diagon Alley to purchase his supplies for Hogwarts, but the rest of that story wasn't true. He realised that he would have to lie to everyone all the time. He couldn't tell the truth to the friends he'll make at his new school. He couldn't be completely honest with any of them. As much as this thought bothered him, he was delighted by the fact that he was going to Hogwarts at all.

"Harry Owens," he says, look at Peter for confirmation. "Okay."

Harry then heard voices approaching him.

"Professor McGonagall's letter says to tap the bricks in the wall in a counter-clockwise order. Which bricks does she mean?" said a girl who looked like she was approximately the same age as Harry.

Harry's face brightened up. He had never met a witch or wizard his own age before. He hoped that this girl, who looked pleasant enough, was a new first year like him. The fact that she didn't know how to get into Diagon Alley was promising. She must be a Muggle-born, Harry thought.

"Excuse me?" said a man who was presumably the girl's father. "Do you know how to-"

"-get into Diagon Alley?" finished Peter. "I'm afraid not. It's my first time here too. My son and I just arrived from America, you see."

Harry knew that Peter was lying. Peter went to Hogwarts himself during his childhood. Of course he would know how to gain access to the hidden entrance to Diagon Alley. He would have gone there seven separate times during his own school days. Peter was trying not to break character. Harry was certain that this would be the first lie of many. He didn't like it.

"No worries. We'll find someone else to ask." said the man in response. "How about that man over there?"

Meanwhile, the girl walked up to Harry and smiled, showing her rather round front teeth. She had long, bushy, brown hair and was dressed in Muggle clothes, confirming that she was in fact Muggle-born. She seemed as excited to meet a magical person her own age as Harry was.

"Hello. Are you a first year too?" she asked enthusiastically.

"Yeah. I can't wait to start," Harry replied. "My name's Harry. Harry Owens."

"I'm Hermione," introduced the girl, "Hermione Granger."

She extended her hand and Harry gratefully shook it. Hermione then began telling Harry about herself and Harry was genuinely interested in her experience. He couldn't imagine what it would have been like to live like an ordinary Muggle for eleven years, then to learn about and all the breathtaking things that can be done with it. It must have been such a huge shock for Hermione to find out about the magical world.

"It was quite a shock," explained Hermione. "At first, I didn't believe the professor who told us about it last week. Neither did my parents. Then she demonstrated some kind of charm and I didn't know how to react. It all sounds fascinating, magic and everything. I'm glad we're getting our books a month before the start of term. It will give me some time to read the books. I don't want to be at a disadvantage, being... What's the word again? Muggle-born? I'm still getting used to the lingo."

"It won't make a difference," Harry told her encouragingly. "There will be loads of other Muggle-borns at Hogwarts."

"That's a relief," admitted Hermione. "I still plan on getting a head start though. Just to be sure."

Harry admired Hermione's dedication and he definitely understood it. It must be strange learning about a whole new world and she must be keen to prove herself to her peers.

Meanwhile, Peter and the Granger parents were asking for further instructions. They approached a strange man with very pale skin and bright blue eyes. When Mrs Granger started to speak to him, he was startled and almost dropped his cup of tea onto the floor.

"Excuse me? Can you tell us how to get to Diagon Alley?" Hermione's mother asked politely.

"Y-y-yes. It's q-quite s-s-simple. L-let m-me s-show you." the man stuttered nervously. "My n-name is P-P-Professor Quirrell. I w-will be t-t-teaching your children in H-H-Hogwarts."

"Pleased to meet you," said Mr Granger, shaking Professor Quirrell's hand. "What subject do you teach?"

"D-D-Defence against the D-Dark Arts," answered the seemingly-anxious professor.

"Well, that means absolutely nothing to me," laughed Mrs Granger.

Professor Quirrell walked up to the dusty brick wall in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron and touched the wall in three places with the palm of his hand. Suddenly, the wall began to separate, forming a hole more than large enough for an adult to walk through. The three Grangers stepped back in shock. Hermione looked through the gap with fascination while Mr Granger gasped and Mrs Granger held her hand up to his mouth. Harry looked just as fascinated as Hermione. Peter just smiled, looking nostalgic as opposed to surprised. Professor Quirrell looked bored, probably because he had seen the opening a thousand times before and it was all normal to him. However, this did not stop him from stuttering.

"W-W-Welcome," Professor Quirrell began, stuttering wildly, "t-to D-D-Diagon A-Alley."

The Grangers and Peter thanked Professor Quirrell, who sat back down at one of the Leaky Cauldron's many tables and returned his attention to his herbal tea. Meanwhile, Harry walked through the passage to Diagon Alley, soon followed by Peter, Hermione, Mr Granger and Mrs Granger.

* * *

July 31 1991, Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts

The stone gargoyle moved aside, allowing Professor Severus Snape entry to Professor Albus Dumbledore's office. He walked up the spiral staircase with a scowl on his face.

"You called for me, headmaster?" asked the Potions master with a tone of voice that revealed absolutely no emotion whatsoever.

"Ah... Severus. There you are. Sit down. Would you care for a lemon drop?" Dumbledore didn't seem to be affected by Professor Snape's glare. In fact, he didn't seem to notice it at all.

Professor Snape shook his head, "What is it you wished to discuss with me, Albus? I was in the middle of brewing a potion for Madam Pomfrey's stores."

"Last week, Minerva came to me with some startling, if relieving, news," the headmaster explained. "It seems... that Harry Potter is still alive."

The Potions master scowled even more and looked as if he were fighting an urge to hex the headmaster. However, his common sense reminded him that this would be an incredibly foolish act. Attacking the greatest wizard in the world isn't something to do without thinking it through first. Professor Snape stood up in one sudden movement and glared at Dumbledore, who still seemed unaffected by Professor Snape's deathly gazes. Dumbledore's own eyes twinkled as Professor Snape growled and sat down once again.

"This... joke... is not at all humorous, Albus." Professor Snape said slowly, not believing a word of what Dumbledore was saying. "On the contrary, it is an extremely inconvenient waste of my time. Now what is the real reason behind your summoning me here?"

Dumbledore knew that Professor Snape didn't take pranks or practical jokes in good humour. He fell victim to many in his school days, thanks to James Potter. Then there were his goons, the Marauders. Sirius Black, the supposed traitor who has spent the last decade in Azkaban where he belonged. Remus Lupin, the werewolf who only took part in the minor pranks that didn't hurt anyone. However, when the other Marauders arranged the more harmful pranks, Lupin never did anything to stop them. Then there was the spineless coward, Peter Pettigrew, who usually stood back and laughed as Potter and Black took care of the spellwork. Professor Snape hated each and every one of them.

Dumbledore knew that Professor Snape still had a strong hatred for the pranking spirit. Once, on April Fools Day of 1988, the entire school roared in laughter as the headmaster fooled the Potions master into thinking that his right arm was severed from his body. Professor Snape said some alarmingly profane words to the headmaster, before taking his frustration out on the Gryffindors who were unfortunate enough to have him for class that morning. Never before had so many points been taken from the same House in the course of a single day. Dumbledore learned his lesson that day. Never prank Snape.

"This is no prank, Severus," Dumbledore explained. "Harry Potter's name appeared on one of the Hogwarts letters this year."

Professor Snape looked at Dumbledore and after a few seconds, decided that he was most likely telling the truth. "How? Where has he been staying for all these years? How could you not know, Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore looked down at the floor. "I never looked into the matter since I never thought a fifteen-month old baby could survive an attack such as Voldemort's one on Godric's Hollow. I still do not understand how he survived. It should be impossible, but apparently young Harry found a way."

"He'll probably show up and tell a greatly exaggerated tale of heroism about how he overpowered the Dark Lord at the mere age of one and walked away unscathed." Professor Snape spat "Just as arrogant as his father."

"You've never met the child, Severus," began Dumbledore. "You're making presumptions based on your hatred for Harry's father. That's why I called you here. You need to treat him the same as you would any other student. He's Lily's son as well as James'. You might be pleasantly surprised if you give him a chance."

Professor Snape said nothing. He simply stared into space at the mention of Lily Evans, or Lily Potter as some people had the nerve to call her. Professor Snape knew that James Potter was never the right man for a fine woman such as Lily.

"As for your questions on where he has been staying over the years," started Dumbledore, "even I do not know. The only thing we can do is wait for him to get here and ask him."

"What about the public?" asked Professor Snape. "The Potters are the glorious saviors of the Wizarding world. As soon as word gets out that the boy has miraculously returned from the dead, the news will be all over the Daily Prophet."

"I plan to inform the Ministry of Magic tomorrow," Dumbledore told him. "The news will get out anyway. It's best to get it over with now. At least the Wizarding world will have a month to calm down so nobody loses their mind when he shows up at Hogwarts. I suspect there will be an article on Harry in the Prophet sometime in the near future. It will give people time to digest this revelation."

"It'll be on the front page, I expect," announced an irritated Professor Snape. "Just what he would want."

"Severus," began the headmaster. "If I am to allow you to continue teaching here, you must give me your word that you will treat Harry no differently to any other student."

Professor Snape glared at the headmaster, clearly holding back his defiance. "Fine."

Dumbledore looked at his potions master with a serious look on his face. "You word, Severus."

The Potions master paused before reluctantly confirming, "My word."

Professor Snape speed-walked out of the office, his robes swaying from side to side in quick, decisive motions as he did so. After the door closed, Dumbledore turned to Fawkes, his phoenix and began to stroke it softly.

"He doesn't intend to keep his word, does he Fawkes?" Dumbledore sighed. "What am I going to do with him?"

Little did the headmaster of Hogwarts know that Harry Potter wouldn't be showing up at Hogwarts this year... not without a good disguise at least. Dumbledore, along with the entire Wizarding community, was in for one huge disappointment. Dumbledore placed a lemon drop on his tongue before returning to work.

* * *

July 31 1991, Diagon Alley

Peter and Harry stayed with the Grangers for the duration of their trip to Diagon Alley, mostly because Mr and Mrs Granger looked hopelessly lost in this Wizarding shopping area. Mrs Granger was startled when a merchant approached her to ask if she wished to purchase a jar of bat spleens. After she politely refused and the merchant left, Hermione saw how pale she was. Luckily, she eventually managed to laugh it off.

"You'll need to go into Gringotts first," explained Peter to the Grangers. "It's a bank for wizards. You can exchange your Muggle money for Galleons, Sickles and Knuts there, even if the exchange rates are ridiculous. Be warned – it's run by Goblins."

Being assumed to be dead, neither Peter nor Harry could access their Gringotts vaults. However, Peter had many priceless artifacts at Murray Manor. After accompanying the Grangers to Gringotts to exchange their money, he whispered to Harry that he was going to a suspicious shop called Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley to sell them. The Granger looked around the shop and hoped that they didn't look too out of place. Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione went to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor to pass the time while they waited for Hermione's parents and Peter to come back. Hermione bought a mint chip ice cream, which Harry commented was too similar to frozen toothpaste for his tastes. Being the daughter of two dentists, Hermione laughed. Harry showed an interest in a flavour called honeycomb caramel cup and he was not disappointed by the taste.

"How come your father didn't get his money at Gringotts like my parents?" asked Hermione between licks of her ice cream.

"Its... complicated," answered Harry truthfully.

"Sounds like another wizard thing that I don't understand," said Hermione glumly. After a few seconds of silence, she lifted her spirits up and said, "Oh well, I'm sure I'll get used to it sooner or later."

"Yeah, you will," said Harry encouragingly. "Nice ice cream, right?"

"Right," confirmed Hermione. "I can't wait until we go to the bookshop though. I really want to learn as much as I can about the world of magic. Isn't it just incredible? I still can't believe I'm going to a school for magic."

"Flourish and Blotts is meant to be a very good book shop. Peter told me that the shelves go all the way up to the ceiling." Harry told her, before quoting everything that Peter told him about the shop.

Peter was never a well-read person, but even he was fascinated by the shop when he was young. More so than James Potter or Sirius Black, though not nearly as much as his other friend, Remus Lupin. Hermione asked Harry how Peter knew about Flourish and Blotts when he only just came to the United Kingdom from America. Harry improvised and told her that Peter had a British friend who told him all about Diagon Alley. Harry hoped that he managed to cover up his slip convincingly. Hermione seemed none the wiser, so Harry took a breath of relief.

Harry and Hermione chatted in the ice cream parlour for fifteen minutes until Peter finally showed up. "I've got the money," he announced triumphantly.

The Granger parents arrived a couple of minutes later and the group of five moved on to Flourish and Blotts where they purchased all the books they needed for school. Hermione also bought a series of book to help introduce her to the Wizarding world. Harry bought a book called _The Art of Alchemy_ by Nicolas Flamel, which he thought looked like a very interesting read. They left the shop more than satisfied and they proceeded to visit Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where they bought their school robes. The Grangers thought that the robes were a ridiculous attempt at a school uniform, but Harry thought that he looked very smart in his new robes and Peter agreed.

They went to the apothecary, a foul-smelling shop where they bought their basic Potions ingredients. They also each bought a pewter cauldron. Harry had a quick look in Quality Quidditch Supplies. He loved flying and there was a Quidditch on the grounds of Murray Manor. However, he never had anyone to play a proper game with as Peter was never any good on a broom. Harry didn't stay in the shop for very long due to the fact that first years were not allowed to bring a broomstick to Hogwarts or try out for the Quidditch teams. Hermione seemed interested in the sport, but Harry didn't think that she would like it in practice. She didn't seem to be the sporty type.

"It looks like you two just need your wands now," said Peter. "We can get them from a shop at the other end of the alley. It's called Ollivander's."

Luckily, the Grangers didn't notice that Peter knew more about Diagon Alley than an American immigrant would be expected to. They went to Ollivander's and were welcomed by an old man with pale eyes, which shined with excitement rather like a child's eyes would on the early hours of Christmas Day.

"Come in, come in," he greeted enthusiastically. Harry took one look at and man and was sure that he loved his job as a wand salesman.

"I'm Mr Ollivander. You two must be new Hogwarts students who are for your very first wands." He smiled at them. "I don't recognise your parents. Does that make you Muggle-born?"

"I am, sir. Harry's not. His family is from America. They just moved here recently," Hermione explained.

"Ah... In that case, welcome to Great Britain." He nodded at Peter. "Now, I'm sure I have the perfect wands for you two. Who would like to go first?"

Hermione excitedly raised her hand and Mr Ollivander gave her a series of wands, telling her to wave them around. The Grangers rolled their eyes, thinking that it looked foolish. However, they eventually found a wand that suited her. Golden sparks emerged from the wand as she waved it, which certainly took her parents by surprise.

"A perfect match!" exclaimed Mr Ollivander. "Vine wood and a dragon heartstring core. I think this wand will serve you well, Miss Granger."

"Thank you, Mr Ollivander," said a delighted Hermione.

Afterwards, it was Harry's turn. In a similar process to what happened to Hermione. However, it took Harry many more attempts than Hermione until finally, through endless trial and error, he found a wand which chose him. The wand produced golden sparks just like Hermione's did and Harry felt a rush of energy flow through his body.

"I told you I'd find you a perfect match, Mr Owens," said Mr Ollivander, "Holly, phoenix feather... Nice and supple. It's curious though."

"What's curious," asked a befuddled Harry.

"In the core of your wand lies the feather of a phoenix, a phoenix who donated two feather many years ago. The other feather was used in a wand which could be described as the brother to yours. I know he's more widely known in Britain than in America, but when he last came to power he caused the whole world to panic. I'm sure you have heard of him." Mr Ollivander said softly yet grimly.

"Who?" asked Harry.

Mr Ollivander paused for suspense, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Harry's eyes opened widely, "You-Know-Who's wand... is my wand's brother?"

"Don't worry," Mr Ollivander told Harry after seeing that he was starting to pale. "These connections are usually coincidental. This probably doesn't mean anything at all. Now, let me check the price of that wand."

If Harry's backstory was real, he would have been reassured by Mr Ollivander's calming words. However, he know that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or Lord Voldemort as some dared to call him, was the one who killed his parents and tried to kill him. His held his forehead, where he would have had a scar if he wasn't under a Glamour Charm. The coincidence was simply too big not to mean something.

Peter didn't mention the story behind Harry's wand as they left the shop. Harry hoped it was because Peter thought that it meant nothing. Hermione didn't mention it either, probably because she had not received a chance to read on the history of the magical world yet and had no idea who Voldemort was. They left the shop satisfied with their new wands.

"Thank you for your help, Peter," Mr Granger began to say. "I don't think we would have been able to find everything without you."

"Yes," Mrs Granger agreed. "We would have been hopelessly lost."

Peter nodded at the two Granger parents, acknowledging their thanks.

"I'll see you when when we go to Hogwarts," Hermione told her new friend Harry, "Come and find me on the train. By then I'll know all about the magical world."

Hermione patted the bag in her hands which held her books from Flourish and Blotts, as if to back up her point.

Harry smiled, "Goodbye then."

They went back through the passage to the Leaky Cauldron, where the separated. Hermione went with her parents to find their car and drive back home. Harry went to the fireplace with Peter and together, they used the Floo Network to return to Murray Manor for the rest of the summer. Harry was delighted. _Best birthday ever._


	5. The Boy Who Lived

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay. I had projects to hand in. Here's the fifth chapter. I hope you enjoy it.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _'Harry Potter'_.

* * *

August 1 1991, Ministry of Magic

"So what are you trying to tell me, Dumbledore?" asked the enraged Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. "Are you trying to say that Harry Potter, the boy who Voldemort couldn't kill without losing his own life as well, has been alive right under the Ministry's nose for the last ten years!?"

"Yes," answered Professor Dumbledore. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

"This is a disaster!" exclaimed Fudge. "When the public hear of this, it will make the Ministry of Magic look bad. It will make us look ignorant. It will make-"

"Cornelius," Dumbledore interrupted, "this is good news. The boy who defeated the most dangerous dark wizard to ever exist is alive. Children no longer have to grow up learning about the Fall of Voldemort as a tragedy. It has turned into a fairy tale. It has become something to be celebrated."

Fudge scowled in a way that reminded Dumbledore of Severus Snape. He saw this piece of news as a threat to the Ministry's collective public image. Being the Minister of Magic was a much more stressful job than he ever imagined. A good night's sleep was something that he rarely got a chance to indulge in. He was constantly going to Dumbledore for advice, because he didn't have the wherewithal to make his own decisions. All Fudge craved was approval from his people and no matter how hard he worked, people thought that he was mediocre at best.

"I know that you're thinking about this from a perspective which revolves around your job security," Dumbledore told him, "so think of it this way. The previous Minister of Magic was in office for nine years after the attack on the Potter home. He never once imagined that Harry could still be alive. His successor, Cornelius Fudge, has only been in office for a year and he has already found out that Harry Potter is still alive. Not only that, but he ensured that Harry will go to Hogwarts and get a Wizarding education."

"You're letting me take credit?" asked Fudge, not knowing whether or not Dumbledore was serious.

"Yes," confirmed Dumbledore. "All I ask is that you reveal this news to the public soon, so they have time to get over it before Harry goes to Hogwarts."

"Okay," said Fudge, calming down by a significant amount. "Maybe this will reflect good on me after all. However, I want you to come to me sometime during September and fill me in. I want to know where the boy has been living, so I can decide whether or not it would be appropriate to allow him to keep living there. I want to know your best theory on how he survived. If you agree to these terms, I will inform the Daily Prophet immediately. That way, we can get it on tomorrow's edition."

"Thank you," said Dumbledore. "I will speak to you on these matters after I have interviewed Harry myself."

Dumbledore then extended his hand, which had a small, yellow sweet on it. "Lemon drop?"

"I'm the Minister of Magic, Dumbledore," Fudge explained, "people don't offer me sweets during formal meetings. It just doesn't happen."

"I'll be off then," announced Dumbledore.

Dumbledore left the Ministry of Magic to return to Hogwarts. If Harry Potter was indeed going to attend Hogwarts this year, he had many preparations to make.

* * *

August 2 1991, Murray Manor

Harry was reading the book he had bought at Flourish and Blotts for his birthday, _The Art of Alchemy_. He found that it was an interesting book and he made the right choice by buying it. Even the foreword was fascinating. The author, Nicolas Flamel, was apparently born in the fourteenth century. He created the Philosopher's Stone, which had the power to transform any kind of metal into gold. It could also be used to create the Elixir of Life, which extends the drinker's life and prolongs their death, making them effectively immortal. That's how Flamel was still alive, even though he was over six hundred and fifty years old. This very thought fascinated Harry, who wondered what it would be like to have six and a half centuries of memories, knowledge and experience.

Peter came into the room and Harry looked up from his book.

"It says in here that Nicolas Flamel did work with Albus Dumbledore," Harry told him, "Isn't that the man who's in charge of Hogwarts?"

"Yes, Dumbledore is the headmaster. I met him earlier and he agreed to let you come to the school. He didn't even ask to meet you before making the decision," explained Peter. "When you arrive at Hogwarts, don't ask him anything about Alchemy or Flamel. You'll want to stay in the shadows so he never works out that you're Harry Potter. The Glamour Charms should fool him, but you still resemble your father in small ways, like the shape of your face."

"Do you think he'll recognise me?" asked Harry.

"No," replied Peter, "but you'll have to be cautious. Don't speak to Dumbledore unless you have to and don't look him in the eye. If you ever see his eyes twinkling, look away. In our seventh year, the rest of the Marauders and I began to suspect that he was a Legilimens. That means he can read minds."

"What made you think that?" asked a befuddled Harry, who didn't know that such an ability existed.

"Your father slipped some Amortentia, a love potion, into the drink of someone in our year. He was a Slytherin, Severus Snape. Right after he drank it, the Head of Slytherin House at the time, Professor Slughorn, called him into his classroom to discuss a Potions assignment," Peter laughed. "We never found out what happened, but Slughorn was traumatised for weeks and Dumbledore was furious. He suspected that we were behind it but he didn't know for sure. Then he took one look into your father's eye and suddenly he knew everything."

"Don't look him in the eye then," Harry repeated, "I understand."

"Good," said Peter, "now let me tell you the reason I came in here."

"What is it?" asked Harry.

Peter dropped a newspaper on Harry's bed and Harry picked it up. He was shocked by the headline on the front page. It was about him.

"**Harry Potter alive!**

_Will attend Hogwarts this year._

_For ten years, the Wizarding community has assumed that Harry James Potter, the boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was dead. Harry Potter's parents were one of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's main targets. According to those who knew the Potters, they hid under the Fidelius Charm. However, their Secret-Keeper and trusted friend, Sirius Black, betrayed them and gave away their secret. Black even murdered Peter Pettigrew, Order of Merlin first class, a good friend to the Potters. Twelve Muggles were also killed when Black attacked Pettigrew.. Black was sent to Azkaban, but not before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named attacked the Potter house at Godric's Hollow and murdered both of Harry's parents. He then tried to kill Harry himself and to this day, it is not fully understood what happened as a result of this._

_When there was no sign of Harry in the house, it was assumed that his remains were destroyed. The Killing Curse seemed to backfire and it was a fair assumption that both Harry and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed. Professor Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin first class, came up with this theory and the Minister of Magic at the time, Millicent Bagnold, agreed that this theory was most likely true. However, Bagnold's successor, Cornelius Fudge, has discovered a shocking truth. It seems that in reality Harry survived the attack at Godric's Hollow and was presumably kidnapped after the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The minister claims to have found incontrovertible proof that Harry Potter is still alive._

_If this is true, then Harry Potter would have recently turned eleven years old. Minister Fudge has reportedly arranged for Harry to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. Minister Fudge has refused to give any more information about the matter, so the questions remains; how did Harry survive the attack of 1981? Where has he been all this time? How and why has he hidden himself from the magical world? It seems we will have to wait until the first of September to find out the truth. We will be willing to publish any accounts sent by owl to the Daily Prophet Headquarters by the students and faculty of Hogwarts School. It seems the entire Wizarding world is on the edge of its seat, waiting to see what exactly happened to the legend that is the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter._

_By Rita Skeeter."_

Harry finished reading the article and looked at Peter with wide eyes. "Wow... I knew I was famous but... Wow!"

Peter laughed loudly and Harry joined in. After regaining his composure, Peter spoke, "They even gave you your own tabloid nickname, the Boy-Who-Lived. It's in capital letters and everything."

Harry read over the first paragraph of the article once again, paying particularly close attention to the mention of Peter's name.

"Look," said Harry, "You're mentioned here. Peter Pettigrew, Order of Merlin first class. You never told me you were awarded an Order of Merlin."

Peter looked at Harry, "Well, I couldn't exactly accept it, being dead and all. I was awarded it post-humously apparently. It was for defying Sirius Black after what happened to your parents."

Peter frowned and Harry assumed it was because he was remembering the feeling of finding out that Black had betrayed Harry's parents. What Harry did not know was that the frown was one of guilt. Peter felt guilty for lying to Harry for his whole life. Peter was the traitor who got James and Lily killed and he let Sirius, an innocent man, take the blame. Peter knew that he couldn't tell Harry anything. His unofficially-adopted son would turn away from him if he even suspected the truth. Peter started raising Harry all those years ago as a way to give himself a second chance. That is why he was now trying to ignore the guilt and not dwell on the past. His efforts were fruitless.

* * *

August 2 1991, The Burrow

Ronald Weasley was upset to say the least. Charlie Weasley, one of Ron's many brothers, was home from Romania for a quick visit and Ron's parents were fussing over him. Ron's little sister, Ginny, was hanging onto every word of Charlie's heroic stories about how he captured, looked after and studied dragons. Even the twins, Fred and George, were letting him stay in the Burrow without being pranked, which was certainly saying something. Charlie was getting all the attention in the world, while Ron was being ignored as usual. Nothing changes.

Ron had many siblings. The eldest was Bill, who was Head Boy during his time in Hogwarts. He now worked with the goblins at Gringotts, a very difficult job that very few humans are ever trusted with. Charlie was a prefect and Quidditch captain, one of the best seekers to ever play for the Gryffindor team. Percy had received a prefect badge just over a week ago. The twins were the fun ones, who got more attention than any of the other Weasleys because of their inventive pranks. Ginny was the only girl, so she definitely stood out. Ron, on the other hand, was unfortunate enough to have the title of just another Weasley. He was convinced that if he disappeared off the face of the planet, it would take days or even weeks for his family to notice.

He was due to start attending Hogwarts this year, but he knew that he wouldn't excel in class. His siblings had always teased him for being a slow learner. He knew that he wouldn't be a prefect or head boy. He doubted that he would ever make it onto the Quidditch team, let alone be the captain. Even if he did achieve any of this, that would just barely be enough to even the score between himself and his older brothers. To make himself properly stand out seemed like an impossible task. Ron just had to live with the fact that he would never have his fair share of his parents' attention.

He yawned and walked into the kitchen, feeling peckish. Moments later, he heard his father's voice.

"Hello, Weasleys," he greeted. "Have you read the paper today?"

"No," admitted Charlie, "Why? What has happened?"

Arthur Weasley dropped the Daily Prophet on Charlie's lap and smiled. Charlie read it and looked at his father, looking for confirmation that the news was really true.

"Harry Potter is alive?" he read.

Upon hearing those four words, Ginny Weasley tuned into the conversation and ran up to her father. She had grown up hearing about the tragic fairy tale that was the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She imagined Harry as some sort of lost prince, whom should would one day marry. It would even be appropriate to say that she had a little crush on him, or the closest thing to a crush that a ten-year-old girl could have.

"Apparently," said Arthur, "Nobody knows anything about it at the Ministry. I'm assuming that Minister Fudge is the only person in the whole Ministry of Magic who knows anything about this."

"It says here that he'll be going to Hogwarts," Charlie pointed out. "I guess he will be in Ron's year then."

"Looks like it," said Arthur in response.

Ron heard his mother approaching. It seemed she had finally finished lecturing Fred and George about not replacing all the milk in the house with an unidentifiable white liquid. Arthur walked towards her, probably eager to tell her the breaking news.

"Molly, take a look at this article in the Prophet," he called out.

Ron slipped up to his room without his family noticing, which wasn't difficult considering the fact that nobody ever noticed Ron. The red-haired boy smirked. He had a plan to finally get his parents to notice that he exists. Harry Potter was going to be in his year at Hogwarts. It was so convenient. The perfect chance.

"If I become best friends with the famous Harry Potter," he muttered to himself, "then they will have to pay attention to me."


	6. The Hogwarts Express

**Author's Note:** Here's the sixth chapter. Thanks again to Smithback and Madokaism for reviewing.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _'Harry Potter'_.

* * *

September 1 1991, King's Cross Station

Harry couldn't wait to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the first time in his life. The mere thought of it invigorated him. It was the first day of September and all kinds of witches and wizards gathered at King's Cross Station to send their children off on the Hogwarts Express. Harry looked around him in awe. He had never seen so many wizards in one place before. They were all walking across the Muggle station, wearing their pointed hats and their robes. It was a miracle that no Muggles noticed that anything was odd. Harry wondered how many many children had walked across this train station and walked on board the Hogwarts Express to enroll in the prestigious school that is Hogwarts. Harry was thrilled that he would be added to that list, even if he had to use a different name to do it. The day for which he had been waiting for these long years had finally arrived and he couldn't have been more excited to be at that station.

Harry walked across the station, pulling his trunk behind him. Peter was beside him, trying to act like he wasn't emotionally affected by this moment. Harry had been the reason for his life for the last ten years. Raising Harry as well as possible was Peter's only chance at redemption. He had to redeem himself after he failed to be the trustworthy Secret-Keeper that his friends, James and Lily Potter, asked him to be. Now Harry was growing up and starting school. He had already made a good friend in Hermione Granger. Peter looked at Harry and wondered if James and Lily would approve. _They'd approve of how Harry turned out, _he thought, _but they'd still be appalled that I was the one who brought him up._

The disguised Boy-Who-Lived looked around him in search of Hermione, the girl he met at the Leaky Cauldron a month ago. After a couple of minutes, he spotted her. The bushy-haired girl was saying goodbye to her parents. Harry turned to Peter and did the same. Peter gave him some money to buy some sweets on the train. Harry gave the man who raised him a smile and a words of thanks.

"I'll see at the end of the school year then," said Harry. "Or maybe at Christmas? We'll see, I guess."

Peter nodded. He wondered how Harry felt about this, especially considering the fact that he had never been away from Peter for such a long time in his life. Harry gave Peter a quick hug, before running off to greet Hermione. Mr and Mrs Granger were just leaving when Harry arrived. Hermione smiled, seeming happy to see him. Peter watched from a distance as they waved to each other.

"Hello Harry," greeted Hermione.

"Hi," said Harry in reply, "We're finally going then?"

"Yes," nodded an enthusiastic Hermione. "It is finally happening. I have been reading the books I got in Diagon Alley all month. Didn't I tell you that I'd know all about the magical world by the time we left for Hogwarts? Those weren't empty words."

Harry nodded as Hermione launched into an explanation about the many different aspects of the Wizarding world, ranging from the different departments within the Ministry of Magic to the different kinds of magical beings that existed. Unlike Hermione, Harry was brought up by a wizard. This meant that he already knew a lot of what Hermione was explaining. However, the girl seemed to enjoy explaining it to him so he humoured her by smiling and nodding whenever she stopped for breath. As she spoke, they slowly approached Platforms Nine and Ten.

"Here we are then," Hermione announced. "Professor McGonagall's letter said that we need to run into the barrier between Platform Nine and Platform Ten. We should end up running right through it and into Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, like a ghost walking through a solid wall."

"Let's try then," said Harry as Hermione looked anxious.

"Are you scared?" Harry teased

"Of course not," said Hermione defiantly, "but you go first."

Harry smiled and picked up his trunk. He ran into the barrier and Hermione watched in awe as he seemed to disappear right in front of her. The Muggles who were walking by didn't seem to notice that anything odd had occurred. Hermione simply stared at the barrier for a few seconds, trying to take in what had just happened. After a while, Hermione gathered the strength to mimic Harry's movements and run into the barrier herself. She ran towards the barrier, but right before she reached it she was gone.

Harry was amazed when he realised that he had made it onto the platform. There was an archway with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters written on it. Children were rushed past the platform carrying trunks, wands, cauldrons, owls, toads and magical schoolbooks. They made no attempt to hide their magical nature because they were now on a platform that was restricted to the magical world. There wasn't a Muggle in sight. He turned around and saw Hermione appear out of nowhere and stop to admire the platform just as he had.

"Come on," Harry told her. "Let's get on the train."

The first few carriages were all packed with students, so Harry and Hermione kept searching until they found an empty compartment near the end of the train. They put their trunks in the corner of the compartment and sat down. Now relaxing, they began to eagerly discuss what they thought Hogwarts would be like. They chatted amongst themselves as student after student passed by in search of an empty compartment. They could hear all kinds of noise coming from outside: jokes, laughter, arguments, screams. It seemed that Harry and Hermione weren't the only people to be exciting about being aboard the Hogwarts Express.

Meanwhile, Peter ran through the barrier and onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters himself, after much deliberation. He couldn't stand letting Harry go like that. They gave each other an ordinary, casual goodbye when it could have turned out to be the last time they ever saw each other. If Dumbledore or anyone else found out the truth about Harry, it would all be over. If people knew that Harry Owens was in fact Harry Potter and was raised by the apparently-dead Peter Pettigrew, people would look into what really happened ten years ago. If they managed to prove Sirius Black's innocence, Peter would be thrown into Azkaban or worse, left to become the latest victim of the Dementor's Kiss. He had to find a way to keep an eye on Harry.

He looked around and saw a family talking with each other. They each had flaming red hair. Two of them looked identical. They must be twins, Peter decided. There was also an older boy with his chest puffed out, showing off his fancy prefect badge. There was a girl who looked too young to be attending Hogwarts. Then there was another boy, standing behind his mother. Peter didn't notice that boy at first. The boy was sorting through his trunk in a panicked frenzy. He was obviously worried that he might have forgotten something.

"Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?" one of the twins asked. "You should have said something. We had no idea."

"Hang on," said the other twin, holding up his hand. "I think I remember him saying something about it once-"

"Or twice-"

"A minute-"

"All summer-"

Peter was reminded of James and Sirius as he listened to the twins' banter. As they continued to tease their poor older brother, Peter transformed into his Animagus form and slipped into the youngest boy's truth, just as he was closing it. The boy evidently didn't notice, so he went into the train and took Peter with him. The Animagus was ensuring that Harry wouldn't head into enemy territory on his own. Safely in Ron Weasley's trunk, Peter Pettigrew was returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

* * *

September 1 1991, Hogwarts Express

The train began to move and Harry tried not to make his glee too obvious. He was now officially on his way to Hogwarts for the first time in his life. The rest of the students were waving out of the windows to their parents and guardians on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Harry and Hermione, however, had already said goodbye to their carers so they sat in their compartment and continued to share their speculations regarding what it would be like to finally step into Hogwarts. Both of them had high expectations and were eager to do as well as possible in their classes, not purely to achieve good grades but also to learn about the fascination topic known as magic.

"Have you read about the four Houses then?" asked Harry once the students in the other compartments had finally calmed down.

"Yes," answered Hermione, not to Harry's surprise. "Do you know which House you will be in? I personally hope I'm in Gryffindor. It sounds by far the best. I heard that Professor Dumbledore himself was in it... but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad. It's meant to be for the smart, studious and intellectual students and that's me. What about you?"

"Well," Harry considered, "I hope I get put in Gryffindor like-"

Harry paused mid-sentence. He had almost included the silent words, like Peter. Harry couldn't let Hermione know that he was really Harry Potter, the boy who survived being attacked by Lord Voldemort at the age of one and the boy who was now so aptly known as the Boy-Who-Lived. He had to stick to his alias and if he accidentally let Hermione know that Peter attended Hogwarts, not some school in America, she would get suspicious. He had to stick to the alias of Harry Owens. They hadn't even arrived yet and Harry had already almost blown his cover!

"Like who?" asked Hermione.

"L-l-like," stuttered Harry, sounding very much like Professor Quirrell as he tried to come up with a way to finish his sentence that didn't reveal his secret. "Like Dumbledore. Like you said, he was in Gryffindor back when he was a student."

"He sounds like a very admirable wizard," Hermione told Harry. "He's mentioned in more than half of the books on the magical world I bought in Flourish and Blotts. I can't wait to meet him and see what he's like."

Harry did not share this feeling. As excited as he was to be on his way to Hogwarts, he very much dreaded having to meet Dumbledore. He remembered what Peter told him about Dumbledore's Legilimency. If Harry looked Dumbledore in the eye even once during the school year, it could ruin everything. Dumbledore would easily be able to see inside Harry's mind and he would discover the truth that Harry and Peter so desperately needed to hide.

"I hope we get put into the same house," said Harry, just now realising that he might be separated with his first and, thus far, only friend.

"Me too," Hermione admitted sadly, "but there's nothing to suggest that we need to be in the same House to be friends, right? It would be an inconvenience to have different common rooms, but we there are plenty of other places for us to meet. Let's agree right now that we'll remain friends, no matter who ends up in what House. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Harry smiled.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted when the door to the compartment opened and they saw a young boy, most likely a first year like them, with flaming red hair. He was reasonably tall for his age and his face was covered in freckles. Harry remembered passing this boy at King's Cross Station. He was part of that large family that all had red hair and freckles like he did. He stared at Harry for a couple of seconds, almost examining him, before his eyes grew wide and he leaned over towards Harry, who shrugged backwards. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, both confused by this boy's actions.

"Are you him!" the boy demanded. "Are you him?"

Harry froze, worried that this mysterious boy knew the truth. "Am I who?"

"Never mind," said the boy with a disappointed sigh. "If you were who I am looking for, then you'd know."

The red-haired boy turned around to leave the compartment, but a curious Hermione called him back in.

"Wait!" she called. "Who are you looking for?"

"Harry Potter of course!" the boy exclaimed as Harry paled slightly. "Haven't you seen the Daily Prophet lately? He's still alive and he's meant to be coming to Hogwarts this year. Only I've searched this whole bloody train from top to bottom and there's no sign of him. I have to get to him first. I have to become friends with the Boy-Who-Apparently-Lived to prove to my stupid family that I'm not useless. Where could he be?"

Harry remain silent while Hermione spoke back to the boy. "Well, if we see Harry Potter we'll let him know that you were looking for him, though if it were me I'd just want to be treated like any other student. The fame must get annoying at times. I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger."

"Ron," introduced the strange boy. "Ron Weasley."

Ron and Hermione shook hands. Ron then looked at Harry, expecting him to introduce himself too. At first, Harry was too lost in his own thoughts to even notice, but he eventually caught on and introduced himself to Ron.

"Harry Owens," he muttered as he shook the boy's hand.

"Well, at least I found a Harry," laughed Ron, "even it if isn't the right Harry. Where could he be? Maybe he's going to Hogwarts some other way. He's really famous and all... I bet he's rich. He could have his own private train or one of those Muggle Oreoplane thingamawhatsits."

Harry really didn't like this. Ignorant of the fact that Peter was on the train with him at that very moment, Harry suddenly felt alone. As far as he knew, he would be the only person in Hogwarts who knew his secret. He has previously thought that his secret would be easy to keep. He only discovered on the train that meeting Harry Potter was a big deal and everybody would be looking for him just as Ron was. He wished he and Peter had given themselves fake first names in addition to their fake surnames. Ron had already realised that he had the same first name as Harry Potter. If a star-struck eleven-year-old could make that connection, then Dumbledore would easily be able to work out the truth. Harry had a bad feeling about the idea of keeping himself hidden for seven whole years. It seemed like an impossible task to him.

"I'll go and keep looking for Harry Potter," announced Ron. "Maybe he's wandering across the train too. That could be why I missed him."

"Good luck," Hermione said as Ron left. After his exit, there was a long silence that was eventually broken by Hermione.

"So..." she began, "do you think that Harry Potter is really coming here? I wouldn't want to bother him, but I'm sure he'd let me ask him a couple of questions about this You-Know-Who character. It really is amazing, what Harry Potter did. I was reading about him just four nights ago."

Harry was annoyed that Hermione was rambling on about his past, even if she wasn't aware of it. "Harry Potter was a year old when he stopped You-Know-Who. He probably doesn't remember any of it."

This was true. Harry honestly couldn't remember anything that happened before he was living with Peter Pettigrew. He was simply too young back then.

"I suppose," responded Hermione looking slightly disappointed.

The trip to Hogwarts was reasonably uneventful until about half past midday, when a smiling, dimpled woman approached them, pulling behind her a trolley full of tempting sweets and confectioneries. Harry felt the inside of his trouser pockets and was glad to find out that the money that Peter had given him before he left was still there. He and Peter had both overslept so they had to leave Murray Manor in a hurry. Without his usual breakfast in his stomach, Harry felt hungry.

"Anything off the cart dears?" the woman asked kindly, her smile plastered to her face.

"No thanks," said Hermione politely. "No wizard money."

"How about you, love?" the woman asked, looking straight at Harry this time.

"A bit of everything," ordered Harry vaguely, placing the silver and bronze coins on the kind woman's palm. After realising that he sounded rude, he quickly added, "please."

Harry shared his many snacks with Hermione and they had a fun time working out what all the sweets actually were. Hermione had only ever tasted Muggle sweets and Harry, living in hiding, had never tasted delicacies such as Chocolate Frogs, Licorice Wands or Sugar Quills either. The only time he was allowed to go out in public was in the Muggle world, so he was familiar with the same kind of sweets that Hermione was. He had to admit that magical sweets were much more exciting than Muggle sweets. When Hermione asked why he was not familiar with them, he told her that they didn't sell these kinds of sweets in America. Hermione screamed and jumped in fright when her Chocolate Frog hopped towards her.

"It's a real frog! It's a real frog!" she exclaimed. "I thought it was chocolate!"

"I think it is," said a bewildered Harry as he picked the frog up and examined it. After the frog stopped moving, Harry popped it into his mouth. "See?"

"That's magic for you," Hermione laughed. "Nothing is ever simple."

Meanwhile, Harry was opening a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, a type of sweet that looked like Muggle jelly beans. According to the description on the side of the box, the manufacturers took that phrase every flavour very seriously. There really were beans of every flavour imaginable. He placed one in her mouth and nodded to Hermione in approval. It was a nice mango flavour. Hermione placed one in her mouth but she was not so lucky. After swallowing that tuna flavoured bean, she refused to eat any more of them. Harry ate a few more and got mixed results eating beans in a wide variety of flavours: orange, carrot, barbecue chicken, corned beef, passion fruit, marshmallow, fudge, vanilla and one which seemed like a snail-flavoured bean. He even dared to tilt the box and pour at least twenty beans into his mouth at once. Hermione burst into laughter as Harry started coughing, instantly regretting his decision but still appreciating the hilarity of his unfortunate situation.

Harry and Hermione continued to chat, going uninterrupted except for a brief visit from a shy boy called Neville Longbottom. He was just starting Hogwarts too, but he had lost his toad named Trevor. He asked Harry and Hermione if they had seen one and they shook their heads. Neville left the compartment disappointed and continued to search the train for his lost toad. Eventually, Harry and Hermione decided that they must be nearly there so their took turns changing into their school robes. Harry was delighted to be finally wearing them. The robes were a sign that he was finally about to start his magical education and that just felt right. They got dressed just in time as the train stopped as soon as Harry had finished. They exited the train and stood in awe at the man they saw outside... He was enormous.

"Firs' years!" the man shouted. "Firs' years over here!"

They followed this giant of a man down a steep, narrow path. The returning students from the other years all seemed to go in a different direction. Harry wondered why, but didn't protest. They eventually reached a great, black lake. There was a fleet of boats wooden boats sitting in the water at the shore.

"No more'n four to a boat!" called the gigantic man.

Harry and Hermione went into a boat and were soon joined by Neville and Ron. Neville smiled, looking down at the green, plump toad in his hands.

"You found Trevor then?" Harry asked.

"Yep," muttered Neville.

Harry then looked over to Ron, who was looking down at the boat in depression. He was obviously disappointed that he didn't find Harry Potter anywhere in the Hogwarts Express.

"No look finding Harry Potter, I take it?" asked Hermione. Ron looked at her and merely shook his head. Ron was devastated that his plans had seemingly gone up in smoke. He hoped that somehow, Harry would still be at Hogwarts but he didn't dare to let his hopes get too high.

"Everyone in?" asked the gigantic man, who now seemed to Harry to be less intimidating and more gentle. When nobody in the boats protested, the man ordered the boats. "FORWARD!"

Suddenly, the boats moved of there own accord and began to take the new students across the lake. Some of the Muggle-born students screamed in shock. Hermione was amazed to say the least. She found this demonstration of magic dazzling.

"It's like magic!" exclaimed Hermione.

"That's because it IS magic, you idiot," Ron snapped harshly. He was rather moody after his hopes of meeting Harry Potter on the train were crushed. Hermione seemed annoyed by Ron's apparent lack of manners, though she wasn't particularly hurt by the harsh words. Harry gave Ron a glare. He did not like seeing this red-haired boy treat Harry's first and only friend like this after having just met her.

As he was treated to his first gaze at Hogwarts, Harry's mouth dropped open. The darkness of the night made it look as if the castle was shining in the moonlight, the silver colours of the crescent moon bursting through the dark sky. The school was a vast collection of turrets and towers, surrounding the main castle which was enormous. The Boy Who Lived looked over at Hermione, Ron and Neville. They were all equally impressed by this spectacular sight. Harry had arrived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at last and it had doubtlessly lived up to his expectations. He looked at that amazing work of art and decided that he was at home.


	7. The Sorting Hat

**Author's Note:** Chapter number seven here.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _'Harry Potter'_. Professor McGonagall's speech on the houses and the Sorting Hat's song have been used from JK Rowling's work.

* * *

September 1 1991, Hogwarts

The gigantic man led Harry and the rest of the first years from the boats to the castle doors. They swung open and Harry saw a tall woman with black hair. She had a stern look on her face and seemed to look like a rather autocratic teacher to Harry.

"That's Professor McGonagall," Hermione told him. "The professor who told me I was a witch."

The gigantic man walked up to Professor McGonagall. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall."

"Thank you Hagrid," Professor McGonagall said to the gigantic man, who Harry assumed was named Hagrid. "I will take them from here."

Professor McGonagall's words seemed kind and gentle, but Harry was still convinced that she would be a Theory X style teacher, one who is certainly not to be crossed. The first years were led up a magnificent marble staircase. Harry could hear all kinds of voices coming from a nearby doorway. However, instead of bringing them to join the rest of the school, Professor McGonagall led the first years into a small room, barely large enough for all the first years and the aging professor to fit inside.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said with a Scottish accent protruding through her voice. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room. The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

After a few minutes, Professor McGonagall led them into the Great Hall, a huge room which was fall of students. The was a table for each House, holding golden plates and goblets. There were candles floating in midair. At the end of the hall was a table for the professors. Harry saw a bearded man in the middle of that table who could only have been Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of the school. Harry reminded himself not to look Dumbledore in the eye because Peter suspected he was a legilimens and could read minds. Harry's secret was best kept safe.

Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the line of first years. On top of the school sat a dusty, old hat. Harry was utterly befuddled. Why in the world would the stern professor place a hat in the front of the Great Hall for everyone to see? Harry, among others, was shocked to see what originally appeared to a fold in the hat open like a mouth. Amazingly, the hat moved as if it were a living being. It even began to sing at the top of its croaky voice.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

Harry deduced from the strange hat's lyrics that they had to put on the hat and it would decide which House that particular student belonged in the most. Harry was relieved before he previously had some very disturbing theories about how the Sorting was done. Harry looked around him and discovered that he was not alone in his relief. He was one of many. The vast majority of the new students was taking sighs of relief and Ron looked ready to murder someone.

"So we don't have to wrestle a troll," Ron muttered to nobody in particular. "I'm going to kill Fred."

"When I call your name, you will sit down on this stool and I will place the Sorting Hat on your head," explained Professor McGonagall. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A girl in pigtails who looked very nervous sat down on the stool. Professor McGonagall lowered the Sorting Hat over the pink-faced girl's head. The hat paused for a moment before its mouth-like fold opened.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat at the top of its lungs... if it had lungs.

All the Hufflepuffs applauded as the girl, Hannah Abbott, ran over to the Hufflepuff table. Professor McGonagall called out the next name on the list.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Corner, Michael!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Crabbe, Vincent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnigan, Seamus!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Granger, Hermione!"

Harry gave Hermione a reassuring smile as she walked over to the wooden stool. Harry had already decided that whichever of the four Houses Hermione ended up was the one that Harry wanted to be a part of. Hermione sat down and McGonagall gently placed the Sorting Hat on her head. With most of the new students, the Sorting Hat blurted out the student's house after only a few seconds. However, it took almost a minute to decide with Hermione. Harry could see that Hermione was nervous. Eventually, the Sorting Hat made up its mind and shouted the name of Hermione's House.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione seemed delighted with her new House and Harry prayed that he would join her. Harry noticed that everyone at the Gryffindor table, including Ron Weasley's brothers, clapping. Hermione gave Harry a quick thumbs up before sitting down at the Gryffindor table with her new Housemates. Harry could have sworn that he heard Ron groan. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall continued calling out the names. A girl named Daphne Greengrass and a boy named Gregory Goyle both ended up in Slytherin.

"Longbottom, Neville!" the professor called.

Neville seemed more nervous than any of the other new first years. His face was red and he very slowly approached the stool. Professor McGonagall had to give him a light shove in the direction of the stool, before he sat down. Professor McGonagall lowered the hat over his head. The Sorting Hat took a very long time to make its decision. It was at least two minutes, which only added to poor Neville's anxiety. Everyone in the Great Hall looked bored. Some people jumped when the Sorting Hat finally revealed Neville's House with a loud shout.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville looked extremely relieved that the agonising wait was finally over. He seemed more than content with his House. He began to run over to his House table with the Sorting Hat on his head and had to be called back by Professor McGonagall. The professor called out the next few names quite quickly, trying to make up for the time lost by the wait for Neville.

"MacDougal, Morag!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Malfoy, Draco!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"McMillan, Ernie!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Moon, Lily!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Nott, Theodore!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Owens, Harry!" Professor McGonagall called out.

Suddenly, Harry's fear of being discovered was replaced by anxiety. What if the Sorting Hat refused to sort him at all? What if it decided that he was not suitable to attend Hogwarts? Harry forced himself to walk up to the stool, not wanting to be embarrassed like Neville. He sat down and Professor McGonagall lowered the hat over his head. The hat completely covered his head and all Harry saw was black. He was surprised when he heard the Sorting Hat's voice inside his head.

"Oh... This is fascinating, isn't it?" Harry didn't hear the words per se, it was more like he read the words inside his brain. It was too complicated for Harry to describe.

"Can you hear me?" Harry thought to himself. He focused on the words without saying them aloud. He had a gut feeling that the Sorting Hat would be able to hear him.

"Yes, I can hear you," the Sorting Hat replied. "I was looking forward to sorting Harry Potter. I wasn't expecting to have to sort you under the name of Harry Owens though. Don't worry. When the four founders of Hogwarts created me, they made it so I could not divulge any information I learn from entering the minds of others. It was Helga Hufflepuff's idea. Your secrets are safe with me, Mr Potter."

"So where am I headed? Which House am I going to?" asked Harry frantically in his head.

"First, I have to give you some words of advice, Mr Potter. I see from your thoughts that you have been living with Peter Pettigrew. I remember sorting him into Gryffindor not too long ago. For a thousand-year-old magical artifact, 1971 is a fairly recent time. I placed him into Gryffindor because he had such potential to be a brave wizard. However, he failed to live up to that potential. His courage deserted him. If he is alive, then there's only one explanation. This is just a theory, but I think that Mr Pettigrew was the one who-"

"Can't you just sort me?" asked Harry impatiently. He didn't appreciate that an arrogant hat was insulting the man who raised him.

"Are you that impatient?" asked the Sorting Hat. "Fine then. Hmm... It was very cunning of you to hide yourself like that. There's definitely a thirst to prove yourself. Cunning and ambitious, eh? Slytherin perhaps?"

"No, not Slytherin!" Harry shouted in his head. He said it so passionately that for a moment he was afraid that he said it out loud.

"Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? I see talent in here. You could be great and Slytherin could help you on the way to greatness. No? Well if you're sure... Better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry happily sat beside Hermione on the Gryffindor table as the sorting ceremony continued. They smiled at each other, delighted to be in the same House. It would make it so much easier for the two to remain friends. The promise they made each other on the Hogwarts Express was no longer required.

"Parkinson, Pansy!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Patil, Padma!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Patil, Parvati!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Perks, Sally-Anne!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry reacted instinctively to his name and very nearly stood up from the table. He only stopped himself at the last moment. As far as everyone else in the school knew, his name was Harry Owens. Everybody looked around the room in confusion, looking for the famous Boy-Who-Lived. Harry looked around also, trying to give off the impression that he was anxious to meet the boy who was actually himself. He wanted to blend into the background and he apparently achieved this since nobody looked at him twice. The four first years who who were yet to be sorted looked particularly confused. Professor McGonagall had called out Harry Potter's name but by the looks of things, the Boy-Who-Lived was not among them.

"Potter, did she say?" murmured a voice.

"THE Harry Potter?" asked another student.

Once the students had finished whispering among themselves about the famous Harry Potter, there was a long silence. It dawned upon the students that nobody was stepping up.

"Potter, Harry!" the stern professor called again, thinking that Harry Potter could perhaps have simply not heard her.

There was another long silence. Harry Potter evidently wasn't going to reveal himself. After a lengthy pause, Professor McGonagall accepted the truth and moved on to the next name. She would discuss this with the headmaster later.

"Thomas, Dean!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Turpin, Lisa!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Weasley, Ronald!"

Harry watched as Ron approached the stood. His face was almost green. The hat barely touched his head before it blurted out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

After a boy called Blaise Zabini was sorted into Slytherin, Professor Dumbledore stood up to make a speech. Professor McGonagall carried the stool and the Sorting Hat away for the year. Harry made sure to not make any eye contact with the headmaster.

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. Here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

"Words of wisdom indeed!" shouted Ron's brother, one of the twins.

All of a sudden, the food appeared out of nowhere, filling all the dishes on the table. There was such a huge variety of food that Harry didn't know what to eat first. There was roast chicken, gammon, lasagna, spaghetti bolognese, beef casserole, roast potatoes, carrots, peas and gravy. There were even peppermint humbugs for some strange reason. Harry had a great time eating the magnificent food and talking to his new Housemates. By the time the deserts appeared on the table, Harry had already eaten so much food that he couldn't possibly eat any more. It was a shame, since the treacle tart and ice cream looked delicious. He promised himself that he would save some room for desert at the next Hogwarts feast. He introduced himself to resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower, Nearly Headless Nick, as well as Ron's brother's. The twins, Fred and George was mischievous and told Harry many tales about the numerous pranks they had been responsible for during their time at the school. Ron's other brother, Percy, was a prefect. He enthusiastically told Harry and Hermione about the subjects they would be taking at Hogwarts. He seemed delighted to have two people who were willing to listen to his long, tedious speeches, which seemed boring to everyone except for Harry and Hermione.

He looked up at the staff table and saw Professor Quirrell. He was wearing a ridiculous turban while treating himself to some profiteroles. Beside him was another teacher, one with a long hooked nose and long, greasy-looking hair. He had black hair, dark clothes and very pale skin. As Harry looked at the two professors, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his forehead, right where his scar was underneath the Glamour Charm. Harry hissed in pain and looked away from the professors. As soon as he did so, the pain fades.

"Are you okay?" asked a concern Hermione.

"Fine," answered Harry, "I just felt a strange pain in my forehead for a second. It's gone now."

Hermione nodded. Harry turned to Percy Weasley.

"Percy, who is that professor with the dark hair next to Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked the prefect.

"That's Professor Snape," Percy told him. "He's quite a strict teacher who teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to. Everyone knows that he's after Professor Quirrell's job, teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. He knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Professor Dumbledore stood up and everyone in the Great Hall stopped talking.

"I have a few announcements," said the headmaster. "Firstly, the Forbidden Forest is forbidden to all pupils, hence the name."

Dumbledore stopped to look at the Weasley twins who gave him an innocent smile. Harry had a feeling that Fred and George had broken then rule before. Ron smirked as well. He had probably heard the story of whatever happened to them. Percy held his head in his hands, embarrassed by his brothers. Dumbledore continued to speak.

"Quidditch trials will be held on the second week of term," he announced. "Anybody in second year or above who wishes to try out should contact Hogwarts' very own flying instructor, Madam Hooch. Lastly, the third-floor corridor on the right hand side in out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death. Good night."

"Well that killed the mood," muttered the Irish Gryffindor, Seamus.

"Now off to bed. I dare say you'll all need a good rest before class starts tomorrow," said Dumbledore. "Prefects lead the way."

Percy and a prefect whom Harry did not recognise led the Gryffindors up to the dormitories. Harry had a great first day at Hogwarts and he could not wait for class to begin. Harry was just about to get into bed when he heard a high-pitched scream. He turned around to see Ron sitting on the floor by his trunk, cradling his knees and rocking back and forth.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry.

"I opened my trunk and something crawled out of it! Like a rat," replied a traumatised Ron.

"So you screamed like a little girl?" asked Harry inquisitively.

"It took me off guard," Ron explained, blushing profusely. Harry was barely resisting the urge to laugh.

"Don't worry about it Ron," reassured Neville. "We've all had a long day so you probably just imagined it. Right Harry?"

"Yes," replied Harry, "You're probably just tired. Get some sleep and you'll be fine in the morning."

"Night guys," said Ron as he got under the covers of his bed.

"Night Ron," replied Harry.

"Goodnight," muttered Neville.

Harry closed his eyelids and fell asleep almost immediately, dreaming of what the first day of classes might bring. Meanwhile, Peter Pettigrew roamed the corridors of Hogwarts for the first time in fourteen years.


	8. Class Begins

**Author's Note:** Sorry I took so long to update. I was doing exams, but I'm finished now so I can get straight back to work. Here's chapter eight.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _'Harry Potter'_.

* * *

September 2 1991, Hogwarts

Harry woke up long before anyone else in his dormitory. They slept in a round room, with a four-poster bed for each student in the dormitory. Harry shared a room with Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. They were all still snoring in their beds when Harry went down to breakfast early. He was eager to start his classes on a good note. When he reached the Great Hall for breakfast, Hermione was the only first year Gryffindor who was up. She was talking to Percy Weasley, the only Weasley to be present in the hall. While only a select few of the students seemed to be up, most of the staff were present at the staff table. This included Professor Snape. Harry was sure that the pain he felt in his scar when he looked at the Potions Master during the opening feast meant nothing. It must have just been some sort of strange headache.

"Hello Harry," Hermione greeted. "Only two more hours to go until we finally get to start learning. We've got History of Magic, Potions and Charms. Oh, and Transfiguration! It all sound so fascinating. I can't wait."

Harry shared Hermione's enthusiasm, but he also felt slightly nervous. Over the years that he spent looking forward to attending Hogwarts, he never thought about the possibility that he might not be any good at the classes. Only that morning did he stop and think that he might possibly struggle more than the rest of the first years. He had done a lot of reading, but what if he couldn't perform any of the spells in Transfiguration or Charms? What if he kept making mistakes in Potions? He tried not to think about it and enjoyed the grilled cheese sandwiches that were prepared for breakfast.

The first class they had was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. When the first year students arrived, the professor was seemingly late for class. There was simply a black cat that sat obediently on the Transfiguration professor's desk, keeping its eyes on the students in a suspicious fashion. The entire class, including Harry, was shocked to see the cat change into Professor McGonagall. The most extreme reaction was that of Ron Weasley, whose mouth was hanging open for almost a full minute after the transformation. Harry realised that Professor McGonagall must have been an Animagus like Peter.

Harry's assumption that Professor McGonagall was a strict teacher who was not to be crossed turned out to be a perfectly reasonable one. The first thing that she did when class started was give them a concise lecture about the standard of conduct that was to be kept in her class. The students remained silence for the duration of this speech, not daring to speak out of turn in front of the stern professor.

"Transfiguration is a complex and precise art, more so than any other form of magic taught at Hogwarts," she told her students. "My class is no class for messing or ignoring instructions. Anybody who puts the class in danger by doing so will not be permitted to keep attending my class. Consider this your one and only warning."

Professor McGonagall then took her fir wand out of her robe pocket and pointed it at her desk. While muttering an incantation, she waved her wand in a precise movement and the class looked at the result in astonishment. Professor McGonagall's desk transformed into a gazebo. All of the parchment and class plans that were on her desk now lay on the roof of this elegant structure. She waited a few seconds for the class to recover from the shock, before turning the gazebo back into its original form, a moderately-sized desk. She didn't receive as severe a reaction as she did when she demonstrated her Animagus abilities, but there were still a large number of shocked, speechless students who struggled to come to terms with what they had just witnessed.

The students were taught their first spell, which was used to transfigure a matchstick into a needle. Each student was given a match and they spent ten minutes trying to change it into a needle. Harry let out a grunt of frustration as he tried the fully transfigure his matchstick. He had managed to change it to a silver colour and it had become pointy at the end, but it still had the general shape of a matchstick, complete with the red, sulfurous head. In the end, he gave up and looked down at his match-needle hybrid that was still in limbo. However, when he looked around he noticed that most of the students were unable to make any change to their matchstick whatsoever. Hermione, who was sitting beside him, also had managed to partially transfigure her match, which looked almost identical to Harry's. Harry then began to feel satisfied because he had made just as much progress as anyone else in the class.

Professor McGonagall even complimented the work of Harry and Hermione, showing the two match-needles to to the class and giving the two diligent students a rare smile.

"This is an impressive display of potential," she complimented. "Five points to Gryffindor each. With some practice, you will be able to perform the spell fully in no time."

Professor McGonagall then turned the rest of the class and the slight smile left her face in an instant and was replaced by a serious stare. "I expect you to all make a decent effort to practise this spell as your homework for tonight. After tomorrow's class, we will be moving on to more material so it's up to you to ensure that you are capable of making this transformation. If you fail to do so, you will struggle at the exam at the end of the school year. Be warned."

* * *

September 6 1991, Hogwarts

The first week of Harry's time at Hogwarts was almost over. The classes had all gone reasonably well. He had Charms class with Professor Flitwick, a small and easily excitable teacher who jumped for joy each and every time a student showed a genuine interest in the subject. Harry also had Herbology with Professor Sprout, a professor who was cheerful but not afraid to admonish students who ignored her instructions. This was the one subject that Neville Longbottom showed a real aptitude for. Another class which Harry had was History of Magic with a ghost named Professor Binns, whose voice was like a sedative to the students of Hogwarts. Harry was an eager student, but he still struggled to stay awake as Professor Binns droned on and on and on. Defence Against the Dark Arts was the class that the vast majority of the new students were looking forward to the most, but they didn't learn anything from Professor Quirrell. The turban-wearing professor rambled on about what the weather was like when he first encountered a vampire. It was also difficult to decipher his speech when he was stuttering madly. On Wednesday, they had a midnight astronomy class with Professor Sinistra, who was fairly strict but not nearly as intimidating as an angry Professor McGonagall. Of course, there was one teacher who intimidated students a thousand times more than the deputy headmistress. On Friday, Harry had his first double Potions period with Professor Snape.

Professor Snape was the Head of Slytherin House and was completely biased towards his own House. He seemed to have a deep loathing for Gryffindor House and took points from it at every opportunity. Most, if not all, of the points he awarded were to Slytherin House. He also seemed to favour one particular first year in Slytherin, a boy called Draco Malfoy. Peter had warned Harry about the Malfoy family. Apparently, Peter went to Hogwarts at the same time as Draco's father, Lucius Malfoy, who was five years ahead of him. Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater, a servant of Lord Voldemort, who pretended to have been controlled by Voldemort via the Imperius Curse in order to escape imprisonment is Azkaban. Peter said that Malfoy Senior was now a member of the Hogwarts Board of Governors.

Professor Snape, or simply Snape as Harry resorted to calling him after deciding that he did not deserve the title as professor, kicked off the class by reading through the roll list. He didn't know the significance when he called out the name Harry Owens. However, when he reached Harry Potter's name, he paused and smirked evilly.

"Ah, Harry Potter. Our absentee celebrity who failed to grace us with his presence." Harry forced himself to hide the rage which built up inside him as Snape spat out the words. "Clearly he thinks that he is too famous to show up for his education. One day it will dawn upon him that fame isn't everything."

Harry took deep breaths as Snape moved on to Dean Thomas' name on the roll list. He knew that he would have to stay calm. Otherwise, he would blow his cover and everybody will know about his true identity.

"Are you okay, Harry?" A concerned Hermione asked under her breath. She had noticed that Harry looked uneasy.

"I'm fine," answered Harry, determined to keep his anonymity.

After calling out Blaise Zabini's name, Snape put away the roll list and began to address the class as a whole for the first time.

"As there is very little foolish wand-waving or cockamamie incantations here, many of you will hardly believe that this is magic. However, for the select few who possess the predisposition and the ability to understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death. That is, if you aren't as big a bunch of presumptuous dunderheads as I usually end up having to teach." The tone of Snape's voice didn't change even once during this speech.

"We will begin by brewing a simple potion which can be used to cure boils. I wish to see a display of your competence or lack thereof," explained Snape snidely. "You have sixty minutes to complete this assignment, now arrange yourselves into pairs and begin."

Snape pointed his wand at an old, dusty blackboard in the corner of the room and suddenly, a set of instructions appeared on it. Harry and Hermione agreed to do their potion together, while Neville paired up with Ron Weasley. Harry looked around and saw Seamus pairing up with Dean and Malfoy pairing up with another Slytherin, Vincent Crabbe. Harry hastily copied the instructions onto a spare piece of parchment and called out the first step to Hermione, but began to crush the snake fangs that would later be added to the concoction.

When the time period an hour was up, the potion was complete. It looked very impressive for a first attempt, especially considering the fact that most of the other students got it completely wrong. Snape chased every opportunity to point out the mistake of the Gryffindors. Apparently, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown added the wrong amount of dried nettles, Seamus and Dean stirred the potion the potion counter-clockwise instead of clockwise and the duo of Ron and Neville completely forgot to add the crushed snake fangs. When Snape reached the cauldron of Harry and Hermione, he raised an eyebrow.

"Not bad... for a Gryffindor" he complimented before adding, "but the colour is slightly off. You didn't leave it on the fire for long enough. Ten points from Gryffindor House."

A humiliated Hermione stared down at the dirty floor of the dungeons as Snape turned around and moved on. Harry was enraged. Their potion was the best attempt in the class, except from that of Draco Malfoy and Vincent Crabbe. Harry looked over at Crabbe, who had yet to lift a finger. He simply stood back and watched Malfoy, who clearly had experience in the field of Potions. Harry then looked over at the potion of Pansy Parkinson and Gregory Goyle, which seemed to be luminous orange rather than colourless shade it was supposed to be. The potion was a complete failure, but Snape refrained from criticising it or taking points. He obviously didn't want to take points from his own House.

"Perfect," remaked Snape as he looked at Malfoy's potion. "Excellent work, Messrs Malfoy and Crabbe. Ten points to Slytherin. If only the rest of these idiots possessed the talent and drive that you have."

Malfoy smirked and looked pointedly at the Gryffindors. Snape walked up to the top of the class.

"With the exception of the one pair which managed to brew the potion correctly, I expect you to all write two rolls of parchment on why your potions were flawed, outlining the nature of your mistakes, the methods by which these errors could be rectified and the importance of-" Snape was interrupted when the potion belonging to Neville and Seamus exploded, covering both Gryffindors in a grey substance and completely destroying the pewter cauldron.

"I love my job," sighed a sarcastic Snape as the rest of the Gryffindors gathered around Neville and Seamus, checking that they were okay.

* * *

September 7 1991, Hogwarts

It was the first Saturday of the term and the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry relaxed after a hard week of work. They had been assigned homework for the weekend, but not even Harry and Hermione had felt up to starting it on the Friday. It was Saturday evening when they started together. They went to the Hogwarts Library, which was even bigger than the library at Murray Manor. The librarian's name was Madam Pince and she was an extremely irritable woman with a face resembling that as a vulture. She felt insulted every time someone dared to speak loudly in the library and she was horrified whenever she saw someone mistreating a book.

While Harry and Hermione began to work on their essay on the first Goblin Revolution for Professor Binns, a certain rat crawled down the hall. It followed Professor Snape, who power-walked towards the office with the back of his robes bouncing up and down behind him. Peter kept a distance and only dared to get closer when Snape halted in front of the gargoyles which guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's Office. Peter wasn't happy to see Snape again. He used to bully Snape during his school days, but he only got away with it because he had James and Sirius to hide behind. On his own, Peter wouldn't be able to defend himself against Snape, especially now that Snape was an adult and knew plenty of dark magic. Peter knew that if Snape knew that Peter was still among the living, he would happily get a big of revenge on the rat Animagus.

"Gummy bears," said Snape in little more than a whisper.

Peter would have laughed had he been in his human form. The name of that Muggle confectionery was something that he never thought he would hear escape Snape's lips. He would have assumed that he misheard Snape if it weren't for the fact that as a rat, Peter had a very good sense of hearing.

The gargoyle accepted this as the correct password and moved to the side, allowing Snape access to Dumbledore's office, where the headmaster was speaking with Professor McGonagall. Snape walked in and Peter hurried after him before the gap closed. Once in the office, Peter was determined to say in the shadows. He couldn't risk getting caught in front of Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall.

"Hello Severus," greeted Dumbledore. "I was just chatting with Minerva here about-"

"-about Harry Potter," finished Snape.

"How did you know what I was going to say?" asked an impressed Dumbledore. "Nobody has ever gotten past my Occlumency shields."

"I didn't need Legilimency to work out what you were going to say," explained Snape. "Has anybody been talking about anything else lately? Potter this and Potter that. I don't see why he should receive special treatment, Albus. He didn't even bother to show up on the Hogwarts Express. Such an arrogant boy."

"You've never met him," Dumbledore reminded Snape. "Don't be so quick to judge, Severus. I suspect there is more to this than what meets the eye."

"He's right," agreed Professor McGonagall. "We don't know that Mr Potter refused to show up. Perhaps he never received his Hogwarts letter. After all, we have no idea where he has been for the past decade. We haven't heard from him at all. His name appearing on the register is the only evidence we have that Potter is in fact alive."

"It is truly a pressing issue," admitted Dumbledore. "Perhaps I have no choice but to leave the job of finding poor Harry to the Ministry of Magic."

"I assume that word has made its way to Minister Fudge that Harry Potter has not appeared at Hogwarts?" asked McGonagall.

"Yes. It would have by now," Dumbledore told her. "Cornelius has yet to confront me on the matter. Needless to say he will be, as the youth of today like to say, barking mad when he next sees me."

Peter felt an odd sense of satisfaction as he eavesdropped on the three professors' conversation. Harry's so-called absence was causing quite a stir. If only these professors knew what Peter knew, that Harry Potter was at Hogwarts. If only Snape and McGonagall knew that they had already begun teaching him. Peter felt proud of himself and the boy he raised. They had fooled Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who was by far the greatest wizard of the twentieth century. That was quite a feat.

"So what happens now, Albus?" asked McGonagall. "What should we do?"

"We have duties here," responded Dumbledore. "We cannot shirk our duties to search for Harry. We will have to continue our jobs as normal and hope that the Ministry has more luck than he had in finding the boy. Also, I cannot leave Hogwarts for long. Not while we're keeping the stone hidden here."

"At last," started Snape in relief, "somebody taken notice to the easily missable fact that Potter isn't the only boy on the face of the earth. The ignorant students here need our teaching more than Potter needs his ego stroked."

Dumbledore looked disappointed. "You promised that you would think of him like any other student, Severus. He's not a clone of his father."

"No," rebutted Snape. "I promised that I would treat him like any other student. Since the insolent boy never bothered to show up, most likely to get himself even more media attention with this whole disappearance mystery, it would be a fairly difficult task for me to break my promise, wouldn't it?"

When there was nothing more to be said, Snape turned around and walked out of the office as Dumbledore resumed his conversation with McGonagall. Peter slipped through the doorway and out of the office as Snape left. Peter learned a lot from spying on the professors. He learned about how the Wizarding world was reacting to the absence of Harry Potter after the Minister of Magic has assured them that he was still alive. Peter also learned something else, although he still did not know it's significance. He remembered what Dumbledore said. _I cannot leave Hogwarts for long. Not while we're keeping the stone hidden here._ This made Peter think. What stone was the headmaster referring to? Whatever it was, why was it so important?


	9. Flying Lessons

**Author's Note:** Here's chapter nine. Sorry for the delay. As soon as I finally got the free time to update more frequently, I lose the inspiration. However, now I'm in a writing mood again so I should be taking a whole month to update any more.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _'Harry Potter'_.

* * *

September 12 1991, Hogwarts

It was an unusually lively day at Hogwarts and the first years were all buzzing with excitement. It was the second Thursday of term and everybody in Harry's year was looking forward to the first flying lesson which was going to take place that afternoon at half past three. Of course, the excitement was mixed with an aura of anxiety. Nobody was willing to admit it, but the majority of the year group was nervous heading into their first flying lesson. They had never flown before and as far as they knew, they could either prove be a natural, the next Gwenog Jones, or a complete disaster on a broom. Having already gained some experience on a broom, Harry wasn't nervous. On the contrary, he was eager to get back on a broom. He looked around the Great Hall, finding the mixture of emotions very comical. Ron was keenly telling Dean Thomas about the rules of Quidditch while Hermione frantically read through a book from the Hogwarts Library called _Quidditch Through the Ages_, hoping that the knowledge it provided would help her in the lesson.

Harry wasn't the only first year to have some experience on a broomstick. Draco Malfoy, the blonde Slytherin who Snape always seemed to favour, never stopped bragging about his remarkable flying skills. He boasted day and night, telling stories about how he narrowly missed colliding with Muggle aircrafts. Harry thought that Malfoy's stories were completely ridiculous. The pale boy with the pointed face wasn't just exaggerating the truth. He was making up white lies to make himself look good and Harry hoped that he would see Malfoy embarrass himself when the lessons arrived.

Hermione was lecturing Neville about everything she had learned about flying, when the mail arrived. Several Gryffindors crowded around Seamus, who received a copy of the Daily Prophet, which detailed some sort of break in at the Wizarding bank, Gringotts. As usual, Harry received no mail. He felt disappointed because he had hoped that he would have received a letter from Peter by now. He assumed that there was a very good reason for Peter's lack of communication with Harry. Perhaps it was too dangerous sending the letter from Murray Manor? Maybe the owls were being intercepted by someone who had figured out that Harry and Peter were still alive? Eventually, Harry accepted that he was just being paranoid and that he would hear from his guardian eventually. His thoughts on the matter were interrupted when a small package landed on the Gryffindor table, right where Neville was sitting. The owl that delivered the package left as a befuddled Neville opened the package to reveal a spherical object made of glass. The object seemed to contain some sort of white smoke, almost like a miniature cloud.

"It's a Remembrall," the boy explained excitedly. "My gran sent me it because she's knows that I can be forgetful sometimes. Look, you squeeze it like this and if the smoke starts to turn red, then it means that- Oh!"

Neville's sentence was interrupted when he noticed that the smoke in his Remembrall faded to a scarlet colour. He placed his chin in the palm of his hand, starting to think deeply about something.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, who had never heard of such thing as a Remembrall before. "What does it mean when the smoke turns red?"

Neville looked at Harry with panic in his eyes. "It means that I've forgotten something."

"Really?" asked Harry. "What have you forgotten?"

Neville spoke very slowly, "I've forgotten that... I've forgotten to... I've forgotten... I've forgotten what I've forgotten!"

Moments later, Draco Malfoy walked up to the Gryffindor table and grabbed the Remembrall from Neville's hand. Neville's hand moved towards Malfoy, as if attempting to take the object back from the narcissistic bully. However, he hesitated as soon as he noticed that there were two more Slytherins behind Malfoy. Vincent Crabbe, the boy who was Malfoy's partner in Professor Snape's Potions class, was there along with another Slytherin by the name of Gregory Goyle. These two students were so big that Harry found it hard to believe that they were first years. They had huge, long arms that resembled those of a gorilla and their faced showed no expression whatsoever.

"That's mine," protested Neville shyly. It was obvious to Harry that Neville wasn't planning to go out of his way to get his Remembrall back. He was too intimidated by Malfoy and his cohorts.

"Relax," started Malfoy, "I'm just looking. Although maybe I should keep it. It's not like it would do you any good, Longbottom. You're a lost cause. You'll forget things with or without a Remembrall."

Harry suddenly felt an urge to stand up and fight Malfoy, but he managed to control that urge. The last thing he needed was to make a scene in the Great Hall. Drawing attention to himself in any way could lead to Dumbledore figuring out Harry's true identity. Harry forced himself not to involve himself in this conflict and luckily, Professor McGonagall came to resolve it before it went out of hand.

"What's going on, dare I ask?" the Transfiguration professor asked. As always, her voice sounded stern and authoritative.

Neville was quick to explain, "Malfoy took my Remembrall, Professor."

Malfoy scowled visibly as he placed the object back into Neville's hand. He clearly didn't want to get on the bad side of Professor McGonagall. Harry certainly couldn't blame him. The stern professor could be quite intimidating to any troublemaker, especially when the wrongdoer is a first year. Since Malfoy didn't have to deal with the fearsome side of Professor Snape, Harry realised the Malfoy probably considered Professor McGonagall to be the most intimidating teacher in the school.

"Just looking," explained Malfoy. This response seemed to satisfy Professor McGonagall, who turned around and returned to the staff table. The three Slytherins then took a page from the professor's book and rejoined the other Slytherins at their own table.

Most of the first year students experienced some difficulty in concentrating during the classes that day. All anyone could think about was their first flying lesson. Three-thirty seemed to arrive very quickly and the students were all whispering amongst themselves in anticipation when an old woman with short, grey hair led them to their first broomsticks. The school brooms, Harry noticed, were old and certainly not the most efficient models on the market. However, Harry assumed that the students who earn a place on the house teams would have their own brooms. Since they were all in second year or above, there would be no rule forbidding it.

The students were instructed to leave the brooms on the ground and stand beside them. The instructor introduced herself as Madam Hooch and told the students to hold their hands over the brooms. Harry knew exactly what she was planning. Harry had done this exercise with Peter four years ago. It was a test to see who has natural flying ability. Luckily, Harry had no reason to worry as the other students did. The last time he did this exercise, it revealed that he had inherited his father's amazing flying abilities.

"Stick your right hand over your broom," instructed Madam Hooch, "and say 'up' until your broom moves upwards to your hand. Go on."

Harry did so and like last time, the broom instantly zoomed to his right hand. He looked around to see if anyone else had achieved this. Much to Harry's dismay, Draco Malfoy's broom also shot straight to his hand. Ron Weasley's broom almost made it to his hand, but started to hover at waist level and eventually fell back down. However, Ron's second attempt was more successful. Harry looked at Hermione, who was standing beside him. She was having trouble with her broom. She managed to get it off the grass, but it refused to reach her hand. Harry gave her a reassuring smile and she eventually managed to get the broom into her hand. Neville, on the other hand, was unable to make his broom move at all. When everyone began to stare at him, he shyly bent down and picked his broom up as Malfoy let out a loud, boisterous laugh at his expense.

"When I blow my whistle," began Madam Hooch when the class had calmed down, "I want you to gently kick off from the ground and rise a few feet into the air. Don't go up any further though. After a few seconds, lean forward to slowly hover back down to the ground."

The class prepared themselves as Madam Hooch counted down. "On my whistle... three... two-"

Before Madam Hooch could continue, Neville's broom began to rise. The broom rose higher and higher into the air taking the frightened boy with him. Neville let out a yelp of fear as the broom took him further away from the class. The class looked on, some afraid for Neville and some amused by the situation. Neville began to panic and shout for help, but nobody knew what to do.

"Come back boy!" ordered Madam Hooch, but it soon dawned upon her that Neville was now rising by choice. She let out a shout. "Mr Longbottom!"

Eventually, Neville fell sideways off the broom and gravity sent him straight to the ground. His broom continued to rise into the air of its own accord and it also drifted towards the Forbidden Forest. Eventually, it raced out of sight. Everybody's eyes looked over at Neville, who was lying on the ground and whimpering. Madam Hooch approached the boy and looked at his hand. Neville let out a quiet sob as soon as Madam Hooch touched the hand, suggesting that his hand was probably injured.

"Hmm... Broken wrist," the instructor tutted. "Get up boy, we'll have to take you to Madam Pomfrey."

As Neville used his good hand to wipe the tears off his face, Madam Hooch turned to the class. "I am taking this boy to the Hospital Wing. If any one of you thinks about flying while I'm gone, you will regret it. If your toes leave the ground even for a second, I'll see to it that you will be on the train home from Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come along, Neville."

Neville and Madam Hooch walked into the castle as the class watched. As soon as the class was out of Madam Hooch's line of sight, Malfoy began to snicker.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" Malfoy said with an amused grin on his face.

"Shut up, Malfoy" snapped one of the Gryffindors, Parvati Patil.

"Defending Longbottom, are we?" teased Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin who was one of Malfoy's associates. "I never thought fat little crybabies were your type, Parvati."

The war of words between Parvati Patil and Pansy Parkinson continued, but Malfoy paid it no attention. Instead, he crouched down and looked at a glass object that lay on the grass. It was Neville's Remembrall.

"Look!" shouted Malfoy. "It's that Remembrall thing that Longbottom's grandmother sent him."

Harry was disgusted by Malfoy's lack of respect for other people's property. What really made Harry angry was that Malfoy seemed to know that he was being a bully. He just didn't seem to care about it. Harry decided that he needed to be taken down a peg and Harry certainly wanted to be the one to do it.

"Give it here, Malfoy," said Harry, trying to make his voice sound authoritative.

"Nobody tells a Malfoy what to do," responded Malfoy. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find it. On top of a tree, maybe?"

"Give it _here_!" demanded Harry.

Malfoy mounted his broom. "Come and get it, Owens."

As soon as he finished speaking, Malfoy zoomed into the air. It was obvious that Malfoy was not lying when he claimed to be good at flying. Even on the old, cheap brooms that the school provided, Malfoy made flying look easy. Harry was annoyed that someone as selfish as Malfoy had so much talent. Luckily, Malfoy didn't know that Harry was just as talented as he was.

Harry mounted his broom and prepared to kick off the ground, when Hermione stopped him.

"No!" she shouted. "Madam Hooch told us to stay on the ground. You'll get us all in trouble."

Harry honestly didn't care about getting detention or losing house points at this point. He just wanted to teach Malfoy a lesson. However, he did care about drawing attention to himself. He realised that showing off his flying skills, putting Malfoy in his place and possibly getting into serious trouble for disobeying Madam Hooch would make him the centre of attention. Harry needed to stay in the shadows and be seen as a perfectly ordinary boy. That way, nobody will suspect that he might actually be the famous Harry Potter, the one of defeated the most dangerous Dark Lord of all time, the Boy Who Lived. Harry dropped his broomstick onto the floor as the Slytherins cheered.

"Too afraid to come after me, Owens?" teased Malfoy. "Or have you decided that it isn't worth it just to defend a brain dead idiot like Longbottom?"

Before Harry could react, Ron Weasley mounted his broom and kicked off the ground. He seemed to wobble on the broom at first, much to Malfoy's enjoyment, but he soon managed to get the hang on it. Ron flew towards Malfoy as the other Gryffindors cheered him on. Harry was just glad that it was Ron who was getting all the attention and not him.

"Malfoy, give me Neville's Remembrall!" Ron shouted.

"If you insist... Catch!" shouted Malfoy as he threw the Remembrall as far as he could. Ron zoomed after it, but it was clear that he wouldn't be able to catch it. As the sphere fell down to the ground, Ron dived after it and reach out with his hand. He came surprisingly close to catching it, but ended up hitting the ground and falling off his broom. Ron rolled on the ground in pain as Malfoy landed on the ground. The Slytherins gathered around Malfoy, who gave a bow of victory. Just at that moment, Madam Hooch returned from the Hospital Wing. All she saw was Ron lying on the ground with a broomstick next to him. By the time she looked at Malfoy, he had placed him broomstick on the ground and there was no evidence to suggest that he was flying moments ago.

"Mr Weasley, what did I tell you before I left?" Madam Hooch asked furiously.

"You told us not to fly, but-" Ron began.

"Then why were you flying!" demanded the flying instructor, interrupting Ron.

"Malfoy was-" Ron

"I don't want to hear it!" shouted Madam Hooch. "Are you injured?"

Ron shook his head nervously.

"Then go straight to Professor McGonagall," ordered Madam Hooch. " You can explain to her why you were disobeying my instructions."

"But-" started Ron.

"Go! Now!" interrupted Madam Hooch.

Ron glumly walked into the castle while Malfoy smiled nastily. Some of the Gryffindor's tried to point out that Malfoy was flying during Madam Hooch's absence as well, but the flying instructor refused to listen. The flying class was relatively uneventful from that point on, although Harry felt uneasy taking part in the lesson without Ron or Neville there. Madam Hooch had placed enchanted rings around the grounds and she led the students through them. Harry had no problem with this. The only student with flying skills that could rival Harry's was Malfoy. However, while Malfoy when through the rings as quickly as he could, determined to finish the course before anyone else, Harry stayed at the back of the line of students. He was helping Hermione, who was having trouble on her broom. She may have been academically gifted, but flying wasn't her area of expertise.

"The problem is the way you're holding onto your broom," Harry explained to his best friend. "You need to hold it closer to the end to give yourself more leverage."

Hermione shyly thanked him as Madam Hooch awarded five points to Gryffindor for helping a fellow student. Malfoy, being at the other side of the grounds by this point, wasn't there to witness it, but Harry was satisfied with the fact that he would have been absolutely appalled. It was only now that Harry realised that he was forming somewhat of a rivalry with this boy. Then again, Malfoy had that kind of relationship with just about every Gryffindor student in the entire year.

Hermione eventually became slightly better at flying and she took pride in the fact that she wasn't the very last person to finish. Instead, that place went to Gregory Goyle. When Harry landed on the ground, he noticed that he was standing right next to where Neville's Remembrall had landed. When Malfoy wasn't looking, Harry picked the Remembrall up and slipped it into his pocket, deciding to give it back to Neville the next time he saw him.

* * *

September 28 1991, Hogwarts

Peter Pettigrew ran as fast as his little feet could carry him. He was being chased by a cat, which Peter assumed was brought to the school by one of the Hogwarts students. This wouldn't be a very serious problem if it weren't for the fact that Peter was currently in the form of a rat. When Peter stowed away on the Hogwarts Express and sneaked himself into the school, he never considered the possibility that some of the students might let their pets out of the dormitories at night. Peter considered changing back to his human form just for a second, so he could scare the cat away. However, he decided against it. If anybody saw him and recognised him, people would realise the truth and Peter would lose everything.

The cat chased Peter across the school. Peter had no idea where he was because the vision of his rat form was significantly more blurry than that of his human form. Eventually, the cat had him cornered and he realised that he had no choice. People looked in all directions, checking that there were no people nearby. He then transformed back into his human self and ran up a flight of stairs. When the cat followed him, Peter kicked the cat, which caused it to flee. Peter then heard footsteps coming towards him, so he hastily reverted to his rat form.

"I know there's a student there! I heard you! It's after curfew!" came a voice.

Peter realised that it was Argus Filch, the Hogwarts caretaker. It dawned upon Peter that the cat didn't belong to a student. It was Filch's cat. Filch was caretaker back in Peter's school days and Peter remembered that Filch's cat never left his side. Of course, taking the average lifespan of a domestic cat into account, it probably wasn't the same cat that Filch had in Peter's days.

"Which way did they go, Mrs Norris?" asked Filch. Peter assumed that Filch was talking to the cat, which was a bit strange.

Peter was in his rat form, so he knew that he was safe from Filch. However, he didn't want to become the next victim of Filch's cat. Peter ran through a hole in the bottom of a nearby door, but he stopped when he saw what was on the other side. His rat vision was blurry, but Peter knew what he was looking at. It was a huge dog that looked like a vicious attack dog. However, the startling thing about the dog was that it had three heads. Peter ran back out of the room and went as far away from the vicious dog as he could. As he rushed past Filch and his cat, the cat tried to lunge at him. Luckily, Filch picked her up before she could do so.

"It's only a rat, Mrs Norris," Filch said as he stroked his cat. "I only want you eating quality cat food, not whatever you happen to find crawling around the castle."

Peter decided that he had to talk to Harry about this. The three-headed dog looked more like a guard dog than anything else. Peter remembered what he overheard Dumbledore saying a few weeks ago. ___I cannot leave Hogwarts for long. Not while we're keeping the stone hidden here. _Was the dog here to guard this stone, whatever it was? Peter needed a second opinion and Harry was the only person he could talk to. However, getting Harry alone would be difficult and it would mean revealing to Harry that he sneaked into Hogwarts with him. He had no choice though. If Peter wanted to get to the bottom of this, he needed another pair of eyes.


	10. Fudge's Fury

**Author's Note:** Chapter ten here. Let's all be glad that I didn't take forever to update this time. I'm determined not to go back to my old ways.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _'Harry Potter'_.

* * *

October 1 1991, Ministry of Magic

Albus Dumbledore had finally found the time to visit the Ministry of Magic as requested by Cornelius Fudge. To say the least, the Minister of Magic was furious. A month had passed since the new school year began at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and there was still no sign of Harry Potter. The last time Fudge met Dumbledore, the minister took credit for discovering that Potter was still alive. Now, Fudge regretted his choice. The public were not happy at Fudge for giving them hope and failing to live up to his promise. He promised them that he would see to it that Potter would attend Hogwarts that year and that everybody will learn the truth about the attack on Godric's Hollow ten years ago. Now, he couldn't even prove that Harry was in fact alive.

"I knew you would stop avoiding me eventually, Dumbledore," remarked Fudge. "Now it's time for you to face the music."

"Cornelius, I was never avoiding you," replied Dumbledore. "I'm afraid that being the headmaster of a large school as well as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot leaves little time for unplanned meetings. There have been a few pressing issues at Hogwarts that demanded my immediate attention. Now what would you like to discuss with me?"

What Dumbledore chose not to mention was that these "pressing issues" were actually no more serious than an injury to the caretaker's cat, Mrs Norris. Apparently, somebody kicked her and broke one of her ribs. Nobody managed to find out who the culprit was. Dumbledore felt that trying to expose the one who hurt the cat wasn't worth his time, but it was a suitable excuse to procrastinate meeting the minister.

"You know why you're here!" retorted Fudge. "You told me that Harry Potter was alive! You convinced me to take credit for this discovery! He never showed up at Hogwarts and now the public are angry at me! They're blaming _me_ for _your_ mistake!"

"Be fair, Cornelius," said Dumbledore in his defence. "I had no way of seeing this coming. The Hogwarts owls are trained to track down the new students and deliver the Hogwarts letters. I have no doubt that Mr Potter received his letter. Why he didn't show up at King's Cross Station is a mystery to me."

Fudge stood up from his desk and gave Dumbledore a pointed look. Dumbledore didn't seem to understand just how enraged the Minister of Magic was, or he at least pretended not to. Fudge looked Dumbledore straight in his twinkling, blue eyes and scowled.

"Don't think that I don't understand your little game," he said in little more than a whisper. "You're after my job, aren't you? I should have seen this coming. You made up some ridiculous story about Harry Potter being alive and you convinced me to take credit for this so-called discovery. Now it has revealed that Potter isn't really alive at all, the public is turning on me and I will soon be forced to resign. With me out of the way, this job is as good as yours. Albus Dumbledore, Minister of Magic. Is that what you want?"

"If you must know, I have been offered that job multiple times and I turned it down," Dumbledore pointed out calmly. "Harry Potter _is_ alive. That Hogwarts letter was proof."

"I should have seen this coming!" shouted Fudge. "I should have asked for some solid, concrete evidence! There was only ever one piece of tangible proof that Potter might be alive and that was nothing more than a flimsy letter with his name on it. It is obvious that you just wrote Potter's name on that letter yourself. If Harry Potter were alive, we would know. Sometime over the last decade, somebody would have realised. One way or another, it would have come to the Ministry's attention."

"I can't force you to believe me," stated Dumbledore bluntly.

After a short silence, Fudge spoke. "You can leave now. I have work to do."

Without speaking another word, Dumbledore turned around and left Fudge's office. Fudge returned to his parchmentwork, hoping that it wasn't too late to redeem himself as minister.

* * *

October 12 1991, Hogwarts

It was a quiet Saturday evening in Hogwarts and it was a particularly important night for Ron Weasley. The month of detentions he earned for misbehaving in his first flying class was finally over and he had this weekend to finally get some relaxation. He thought that Professor McGonagall was very harsh giving him such a severe punishment for a crime that was, in his eyes, not a very serious offence. Still, he was glad that he wasn't expelled. After all, that was exactly what Madam Hooch said would happen to anyone who left the ground in her absence. He lied on his bed, enjoying that right now, he had no responsibilities. There was nothing that he had to do. He had homework, of course, but that could wait until Sunday night. That's what Ron always did.

"I'm still angry, you know," Ron said to Harry, the only other boy in the dormitory at the time. "I wasn't the only one flying during that class. I wouldn't have minded the detention if Malfoy got the same punishment."

"It has been a month, Ron," Harry reminded him. "Let it go."

"I guess," started Ron, "but I still want to see that git get what's coming to him."

"Me too," agreed Harry.

At that moment, Harry picked up one of his books off the floor. It was The Art of Alchemy by Nicolas Flamel, the book that Peter bought for him in Diagon Alley. He felt like he was in the mood for some light reading, so he opened the book. To his surprise, a small, folded piece of parchment fell out of the book. Harry didn't remember leaving anything between the pages of his book. He always treated his books with great care. Harry unfolded the piece of parchment and discovered that someone had left a note for him inside the book.

___Harry,_

___Meet me on top of the Astronomy Tower at midnight tonight. Come alone_

_and whatever you do, don't tell your friends about this message._

The note wasn't signed and Harry didn't know what to make of it. Was it a cruel practical joke from Malfoy? Perhaps Malfoy planned to tell Mr Filch that a student would be out of bounds after curfew tonight. He could have told Mr Filch that they would be on the very top of the Astronomy Tower. It was certainly in Malfoy's nature to act like this. Harry thought that maybe it would be best if he didn't show up.

On the other hand, could the note have been from somebody who worked out that Harry Owens was actually Harry Potter? If Harry confronted this person now, he could convince him or her to keep his identity a secret. If Harry refused to appear, perhaps this person would decide to stop trying to discuss the matter with Harry and simply reveal his secret to the entire Wizarding world. Harry silently made the decision to go. He had to take the risk.

"What's up?" asked Ron. "You look like you're thinking about something."

"I was..." began Harry, who was starting to trail off, "I was just thinking about how much I hate Malfoy."

Harry knew that this excuse would satisfy Ron, who at this moment struggled to think about anything except how to get back at the silver-haired troublemaker. Ron started ranting and giving a list of all the reasons behind his hatred of Malfoy. Harry pretended to listen to Ron and nodded occasionally, but in truth he was thinking about the mysterious message and he wondered who could have left it for him.

"Did you hear the way he spoke to Dean the other day!?" ranted Ron. "He thinks he's above the rest of the school just because his father is on the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Everyone knows that Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater anyway! It's just that nobody can prove it!"

The remainder of that evening passed quite slowly, which only exacerbated Harry's anxiety. He didn't know what to expect from his meeting at midnight. When Hermione noticed his nervousness and asked him if he was okay, Harry lied and pretended tohave a stomach ache. Hermione accepted this explanation and left him alone for the rest of the night. Eventually, night had fallen and the Gryffindor boys all went to bed. Harry lied on his bed, completely awake as he watched his friends fall asleep one by one.

Ten minutes before midnight, Harry threw the covers off himself and quietly sneaked out of his bed. Luckily, the rest of the boys in the dormitory all appeared to be fast asleep. Harry, still in his pyjamas, left the dormitory and tiptoed passed the portrait of the Fat Lady who guarded the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady was fast asleep, which Harry was thankful for. He had no intention of explaining himself to anyone. He quietly crept down the stairs, hoping that he wouldn't run into Mr Filch or his cat. Unfortunately, he did.

Filch's cat, Mrs Norris, was waiting for Harry at the bottom of a flight of stairs. As soon as Harry reached the bottom step, he looked right into the cat's eyes, which seemed to glow in the dark. The cat let out a loud meow and Harry knew beyond all doubt that Filch would be here very soon. Forgetting about quietness and stealth, Harry ran as fast as he could in the direction of the Astronomy Tower.

"What's that, Mrs Norris? Is there a student out of bed?" Harry heard Filch's voice. "They didn't hurt you like they did last time, did they?"

Harry ran past the courtyard and into the Astronomy Tower. As soon as he was inside, he knew that he was safe. Mr Filch wouldn't think to look in here and if he heard Harry's footsteps heading towards the tower, Harry would have already been caught. He decided that his run-in with Filch was purely coincidental. If Filch was there because he had been tipped off by Harry's secret messenger, he would have known to go inside the Astronomy Tower. Harry walked up the stairs, hoping to Merlin that his message was genuine and not a trap.

* * *

October 13 1991, Hogwarts Astronomy Tower

The clocks reached midnight just as Harry reached the top of the Astronomy Tower. He was right on time. He looked around the dark setting and sighed. He couldn't see anybody there. Either this was a set up for a cruel practical joke or the messenger was late. The stars in the sky were the only light source that Harry had, so he took out his wand and uttered a spell that he learned in Professor Quirrell's Defence Against the Dark Arts classes.

"Lumos," he muttered.

A beam of light emitted from Harry wand, much like a torch. He used it to look around and all he saw was confirmation that there wasn't anyone else in the tower. It was just him. Perhaps Harry's secret messenger was later. Or perhaps it was a practical joke and the messenger never intended to show up at all. Harry didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved.

Suddenly, Harry felt something crawl over his bare feet. Harry jumped back in shock and pointed his wand down, using the light to search the ground for whatever it was that he felt. Eventually, he saw a rat right in front of him. However, it wasn't an ordinary rat. Harry would have recognised that rat anywhere. It was Harry's unofficial adapted father, Peter Pettigrew.

"Peter!" Harry shouted. After remembering to keep his voice down, he continued more quietly, "What are you doing here?"

"I had to come," explained Peter as soon as he had returned to his human form. "I needed to keep an eye on you. Anyway, you won't believe what I saw on the third floor. It was a-"

"You could get caught!" Harry interrupted. "You put everything at risk by coming here right under Professor Dumbledore's nose. Just because you couldn't trust me not to lose my cover."

"Harry," Peter began. "I'm sorry for coming here, but I was stand by my decision. You don't know what's at stake here. There's a three-headed dog in the school! I saw it!"

"No!" retorted Harry. "I do know what's at stake and I can be trusted not to break character. I haven't even told Hermione who I am. She's my best friend and she has no idea who I really am! Everything she thinks she knows about me is a lie! Doesn't that prove to you that I am dedicated to this. I won't give my self away as long as you don't stalk me in... Wait a minute, what do you mean "a three-headed dog!?"

"It's true," explained Peter. "It looked rather like a guard dog to me. I think it's guarding something. I overheard Dumbledore talking to McGonagall and Snape at the start of term and they mentioned something about a stone. The dog is guarding something and whatever it is, it can't be good."

Harry didn't know how to feel. Peter was the one who warned him to stay in the shadows and not do anything to make himself stand out. Now Peter was giving him all this information, basically asking him to investigate this mystery. The last thing Harry and Peter needed was to involve themselves in matters that didn't concern them. They simply couldn't risk getting caught.

"Why are we even talking about this?" asked Harry. "I thought we were trying to keep the attention away from ourselves?"

"I know," replied Peter. "I just can't stop thinking about this. Whatever the Hogwarts staff are hiding here, it's bad news. It's either very valuable or very dangerous. Possibly both. If it's something that dark wizards might want to get their hands on, then Dumbledore is putting the students in danger. There are ways of getting into Hogwarts without aggravating the wards. I should know. I used to sneak in and out of here all the time."

"Okay... I'll keep my eyes open and see if I can shed some light on this, but I'm not going out of my way to solve this," announced Harry. "Okay?"

"That's fine," approved Peter. "I'll stay in rat form and wander the school. I might overhear something again. I just hope I don't run into Filch's cat again."

"Hold on a second," said Harry. "Was that you who broke one of Mrs Norris' ribs? Oh Merlin, it was! That was brilliant. Filch went insane. He screamed at Madam Pomfrey when she refused to treat Mrs Norris. She said that she was a healer for humans, not a vet. They had an argument right in front of the students. Everybody was cheering. Fred and George, my friend Ron's brothers, even threw a party."

"I'm glad I was able to liven up your day," laughed Peter. "I'll always be here. If you ever need to speak with me, leave your alchemy book open on your trunk on page forty-two. That can be the signal. I'll slip into your dormitory as much as I can and check for it. If you leave the signal, that means we'll meet here at midnight that night, okay?"

"Okay," agreed Harry, "but we're not finished talking about the whole sneaking into the Hogwarts Express as a stowaway thing."

"Fine," responded Peter.

Peter turned back into a rat and began to crawl away when Harry stopped him.

"Peter," Harry called his guardian back.

The rat turned around to face Harry who crouched down in order to look at the rat Animagus in the eyes.

"It's good to see you again," he admitted. "I was worried when I didn't get any letters from you."

Peter nodded, or performed a gesture similar to nodding. It was difficult for Harry to tell when Peter was in the form of a rat. Peter then left as Harry began the journey back to Gryffindor Tower. He was careful not to bump into Mr Filch or Mrs Norris this time. Luckily, his caution paid off as there was no sign of either of them. However, when he reached the portrait guarding the tower, he noticed that the Fat Lady was no longer asleep.

"What are you doing up at this hour, young man?" she asked, "You woke me up."

"Yeah," began Harry. "Well... sorry."

"I was having the most beautiful dream where I was performing in an opera," she huffed, "then you had to come and make all that noise."

The insulted Fat Lady reluctantly let Harry through into Gryffindor tower, where he tiptoed back into his dormitory. He hesitated when he saw a drowsy Ron moving slightly, rubbing his eye and letting out a quiet, soft groan.

"Harry?" he asked quietly, "Where're'ye?"

Harry smiled when he noticed that Ron was still half asleep.

"I was always here," Harry lied. "I never moved."

"Okay," answered a highly suggestible Ron, who was still mostly asleep.

Harry got back into bed and went to sleep after his exhausting midnight adventure. As tiring as his trip to Hogwarts' tallest tower was, he simply couldn't sleep that night. After hearing Peter's tale, all he could think about was the idea of a dog with three heads rampaging through the school. He wondered if Peter's theory was right and the dog was there to guard something dangerous or valuable. The Boy Who Lived stayed awake on his bed for the rest of the night, trying to figure out what in the name of Merlin was going on.


	11. Wingardium Leviosa

**Author's Note:** Here is Chapter 11. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Harry Potter'.

* * *

October 31 1991, Hogwarts 

The last day of October arrived and Harry felt glum. A month had passed since his meeting with Peter and he still hadn't found out why there was a three-headed dog in the school. It's wasn't that he wasn't trying. He kept his eyes open for anything suspicious or unusual, but everything seemed normal, or at least as normal as things could get at Hogwarts. Harry thought about going to the third floor himself, just to get a look at this three-headed dog. However, he decided that it was too dangerous. He remembered what he told Peter the last time they met. He would keep his eyes open, but not take any significant risks in order to solve this mystery.

It was Halloween and the whole school was looking forward to the huge feast that was planned for that night. Unfortunately, class went on as normal during the day. Harry tried his best to pay attention and to not let his thoughts drift to the mission left to him by Peter. Luckily, the Charms class was quite interesting so it was not too difficult to stay focused. Professor Flitwick announced that the class was finally ready to start making objects fly. This was something that Harry, as well as the rest of the year, was anxious to learn ever since he first arrived at Hogwarts.

"Now that you have mastered the basics, I think you're all ready to start learning the Hover Charm," he explained. "This is a very useful charm that allows the caster to levitate objects without physical contact. The wand movement for this charm is the swish and flick that we practised in the last class. The incantation is _Wingardium Leviosa_."

All the students in the class eagerly took out their wands. They had been looking forward to this class since the beginning of the school year, when Professor Flitwick used this charm to make Neville's toad, Trevor, fly around the classroom and seemingly defy gravity. Their eagerness intensified when Professor Flitwick, without much effort, used the charm to levitate at least a dozen feathers at once, placing each one on the desk of a first year student.

"Don't forget that precision is incredibly important when pronouncing the incantation," Professor Flitwick reminded them. "Remember Baruffio, the wizard whose speech impediment made him say 's' instead of 'f'. He ended up lying on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

The class began shouting the magic words and staring at their feathers, willing them to rise off the desk. At first, nobody managed to achieve this. Harry had read about this charm in Murray Manor but never actually tried to cast it. He easily managed to get his feather to move, which was more than most of the class could manage. However, he couldn't make it stay off the desk for more than a couple of seconds. This charm was harder than it looked.

He looked around the class to see Seamus Finnigan, who had managed to make his feather twitch slightly. Neville was looking down at his feather, which had not moved since Professor Flitwick first dropped it on the desk. He was no longer trying to levitate it and had seemingly given up. Hermione had not even started trying yet. She calmly took her wand out of her pocket and silently prepared himself. Harry then looked over at Ron, whose face was red with frustration.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, exaggerating the wand movement and emphasising the wrong syllables on the incantation. "This stupid charm won't work!"

"You're saying it wrong," Hermione sighed. "It's Win-_gar_-dium Levi-_o_-sa. You need to make the _gar _sound nice and long."

"She's right," added Harry.

Ron gave Hermione an offended look, "Okay, you do it then if you're so clever."

Hermione rolled up her sleeves, cleared her throat dramatically and pointed her wand at her feather. She performed the wand movement and recited the incantation.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" she pronounced.

Suddenly, the feather floated off the desk and gradually made its way towards the ceiling. Harry gave Hermione a nod of congratulations as Professor Flitwick literally jumped for joy.

"Brilliant! Brilliant!" he shouted. "Look everyone. Miss Granger has done it."

By now, Harry had come to expect such a reaction from Professor Flitwick. He always found it exciting when one of his students showed an aptitude for Charms. It wouldn't have surprised Harry if the tiny professor had given Hermione a round of applause. Hermione gave a smug look to Ron, who merely scowled at Hermione. He evidently didn't appreciate Hermione's help.

It wasn't long before Harry managed to perform the charm himself, much to Professor Flitwick's delight. Ron, however, did not achieve this. After Hermione corrected the way he was pronouncing the incantation, he refused to even try. Harry did not approve of such immaturity, but he decided that if Ron wanted to sulk, then it was none of Harry's business. It was up to Ron to decide when to stop acting so immaturely.

After class, Harry realised that Ron was not willing to relax about the matter. He went up to Harry as soon as the Charms class ended and refused to extract his foot from his mouth.

"Can you believe Hermione?" asked Ron, who believed that he was in the right. "Who did she think she was, correcting me like that? It's not enough that she has every book in the whole library memorised. She has to make sure that everyone else knows it."

"You don't need to be so mean to Hermione," Harry pointed out. "She was only trying to help."

"Trying to help, ha!" shouted Ron so that all of the students passing through the corridor could hear him. "She's a nightmare. It's no wonder that most of the school can't stand her."

Suddenly, Hermione ran passed them with tears in her eyes. She had obviously heard what Ron said about her. Harry felt obliged to talk to Hermione, but she rushed off before he could do anything. Harry looked over at Ron, expecting him to feel guilty after having seen the impact his words had on Hermione. However, he seemed amused more than anything else.

"Speak of the devil," he said as Hermione disappeared from sight.

"She's crying because of what you said!" Harry exclaimed. "At least show some remorse."

Ron snorted in a way that disgusted Harry.

"I thought you were a nice person, Ron," Harry commented, "until you started acting like Malfoy."

Knowing Ron's hatred for Malfoy, Harry knew that this comparison would insult Ron more than anything else. The Boy Who Lived turned around and walked away, not giving Ron time any time to retaliate.

The next class was History of Magic with Professor Binns. During that class, Ron refused to look Harry in the eye. However, Harry was not bothered. He had more important things to worry about. For instance, the fact that he still hadn't managed to shed any light on the three-headed dog that was apparently guarding something on the third floor. Also, there was the fact that Hermione was not present at that class. It wasn't as if Professor Binns ever checked attendance, but knowing Hermione's devotion to her schoolwork, she must have been extremely upset if she went as far as skipping class.

Harry had to endure the remainder of a dull History of Magic class in which Professor Binns droned on about the Ministry of Magic decree of 1631, which prevented non-human magical beings from carrying a wand. After class ended, Harry ran up to Gryffindor Tower and gave the password to the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout," Harry said impatiently.

The Fat Lady granted him access to the tower and Harry entered the common room. To his disappointment, there was no sign of Hermione. Harry had no idea where to look for her. He was just about to give up when he heard footsteps coming in his direction. It was Parvati Patil.

"Parvati, have you seen Hermione today?" Harry inquired.

"No," stated Parvati, "but Lavender said that she's crying in the girls' bathrooms on the first floor. Rumour has it she has been there ever since Charms."

Harry quickly thanked her and ran out of the common room.

* * *

October 31 1991, Hogwarts Kitchens

Directly underneath the Great Hall, Fred and George Weasley entered the kitchens of Hogwarts. The house-elves rushed past, all too busy to ever acknowledge the presence of the legendary Weasley twins. The Halloween Feast was coming up and they had to prepare a large, delicious banquet for the students and staff. However, the Weasley twins were among the greatest pranksters to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts and they had preparations to make also.

"So George," Fred began.

"Yes, Fred?" replied George.

"Are you thinking am I thinking?" asked Fred.

"That would depend on what you are thinking, dear brother," George answered.

"Indeed. Would you like to go first?" Fred offered.

"Very well," replied George. "I'm thinking about adding an extra ingredient to all of this delicious food."

"I'm glad we're on the same wavelength," remarked Fred. "You know what they say about great minds."

"What kind of special ingredient should we add?" George asked. "Cinnamon?"

"Nope," Fred answered.

"Flour?" George suggested.

"Nah," Fred replied.

"Vinegar?" George proposed.

"Not a chance," remarked Fred.

"Saffron perhaps?" George thought aloud.

"No way," Fred responded.

"A potion that changes the colour of everyone's skin?" George asked.

"That's a marvelous idea," said Fred with a smile. "In fact, I brought some with me just in case you suggested that."

Fred reached into the pockets of his robes and produced a large beaker. The beaker contained a frothy violet liquid, the ingredients of which were stolen from Professor Snape's private supplies. Fred smirked mischievously as he called for the attention of one of the Hogwarts house-elves.

"Hey you," he said to a nearby elf, "can you put this in all the pumpkin juice for tonight's feast?"

Fred handed the beaker to the nervous elf who seemed honoured to be spoken to by a wizard. "Yes sir!"

The twins shared a laugh as Fred patted the house-elf on the head, "Attaboy."

The blind obedience of the house-elves made pranking almost too easy. They obeyed the pranksters' orders without question and because of that, the Halloween feast was shaping up to be very interesting this year. Fred nodded at George to signify a job well done. He moved to leave the kitchens, but George was quick to stop him. He held a hand in front of his brother and looked at him as if he were forgetting something important.

"Not so fast there," he said to his twin brother. "We need to make sure that the coast is clear, remember? If McGonagall or one of the other teachers catches us leaving the kitchens, we might get detention. Worse still, our prank might not work."

"You're right," Fred gasped, holding his hand up to his mouth in exaggerated shock. "Where is my common sense. Shall we check the map?"

"Indeed we shall," agreed George.

Fred was referring to the Marauder's Map, a very useful tool for the aspiring prankster. They stole it from Mr Filch's office in their first year and have been using it to their advantage ever since. It was a map of the school, showing every detail of the castle and the grounds. It had a dot representing everyone in the school. Whenever a person moved in Hogwarts, so did the corresponding dot. It allowed Fred and George to monitor everybody in the school at once.

George took a piece of parchment out of his pocket. He pointed his wand at the map and uttered the password, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Suddenly, lines of ink appeared on the page, gradually revealing the contents of the map. It proceeded to show clusters of students gathering at certain points in the school. There was nobody near the entrance to the kitchens, so it seemed that the twins were free to leave. However, this was not what gained George's attention. He pointed at a particular dot to show it to his brother, who let out a genuine gasp.

On the first floor, heading in the direction of the girls' toilets was a dot marked _'Harry Potter'_.


	12. Halloween Feast

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Harry Potter'.

* * *

October 31 1991, Hogwarts 

It was Halloween and most of the students and staff of Hogwarts were enjoying the fabulous feast that was prepared for them by the school's house-elves. The students and even a couple of the staff were amused when everybody who drank the pumpkin juice started to panic. As soon as they swallowed the juice, their skin turned neon orange. Professor Dumbledore in particular enjoyed this joke and he made no attempt to hide it. One of the people who did not find the prank funny was Professor Snape, who happened to be one of the people to drink the liquid before realising that it had been tainted. His face had an expression of pure rage, but the students found it difficult to take him seriously when his face was glowing with an orange light.

The obvious culprits for this prank were the Weasley twins, Fred and George. However, when everybody looked around, the twins were nowhere in sight. It made sense to be as far away from Snape as possible when their prank made itself known, but everybody knew that the twins would have wanted to witness the chaos that was caused by their little joke. The truth of the matter was that the twins were not even thinking about their prank at this time. Something far more exciting had caught their attention. After seeing Harry Potter's name on the Marauder's Map, they were intent on finding the legendary Boy Who Lived and finding out why nobody knew that he was at Hogwarts.

However, the feast quite eventful in itself. The Weasleys' prank was far from the most notable event to take place during it. The students were all chatting about Professor Snape's new look, when Professor Quirrell came bursting into the Great Hall.

"TROLL! TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS... Thought you ought to know," shouted the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at the top of his lungs.

Everybody in the Great Hall paused, waiting for Professor Quirrell to add that he was only joking. However, all Professor Quirrell did was faint and it dawned upon the students that a troll had indeed found its way into Hogwarts. The students all began talking over each other until Professor Dumbledore reminded them of his presence.

"Silence!" his voice echoed across the hall.

"Prefects," the headmaster continued, "please lead your Houses to their respective dormitories immediately."

The prefects, including Percy Weasley, gathered the students and began to lead them to their dormitories. However, the four students who were not present at the Halloween feast had no way of knowing that there was a troll in the castle.

As it happened, Harry was one of those four people. He was far too concerned for his best friend, Hermione Granger, to care about food. According to Parvati Patil, Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom ever since Ron offended her after a misunderstanding during Charms class. Harry was furious with Ron, the boy who hurt Hermione simply because she corrected him in class. Ron was Harry's roommate and before this incident, Harry would have thought of him as a friend.

"Hermione?" Harry called as he knocked on the door of the girls' toilets. "Are you in there?"

Hermione made no response, but Harry heard quiet sobbing. Hermione was trying not to let her crying be heard, but Harry could just about make it out. At least this was confirmation that Hermione was indeed here. Reluctant to walk into the girl's toilets, Harry decided to knock on the door one more time.

"I'm coming in, okay?" he asked. "Okay, Hermione?"

Before he could open the door, Harry heard footsteps coming in his direction. However, these were not ordinary footsteps. They were a hundred times louder than they should have been. Whatever was making them must have been incredibly heavy. Harry hesitantly turned around and saw a huge beast in the distance. It was a mountain troll, a being that was twelve feet tall, carried a wooden club and had pale grey skin. It let out a low-pitched yawn before staggering after Harry.

In despair, Harry quickly entered the girls' bathrooms and frantically closed the door behind him. Hermione emerged from one of the cubicles, hoping that it wasn't obvious that she was crying. She clearly had no idea that there was a troll just outside the room. Having heard his voice moments ago, she was not surprised to see Harry. What surprised her was the look of panic on her friend's face.

"Harry?" she whimpered.

Before Harry could respond, Hermione heard the sound of the troll's club hitting the door to the bathroom. The whole room seemed to shake, but the door remained shut, much to Harry's relief.

"What was that?" Hermione asked. "What's happening?"

"There's this... big... ugly... thing!" answered the agitated Boy Who Lived. "I think it's a troll!"

Suddenly, there was another loud noise. The troll was making another attempt to break through the door and this time, it succeeded. The door was knocked off its hinges and the gigantic humanoid bent down in order to fit through the empty doorway. It slowly walked towards the two despairing first years. Hermione was too afraid to move, but Harry stood up and tried to appear unafraid.

"I'll distract it," he told Hermione. "Get out of here and tell one of the teachers where I am."

Without waiting another second, Harry ran towards the troll and jumped as high as he could, grabbing hold of the its left shoulder. He climbed up the troll's massive body and with effort, he managed to get his arms around its thick neck. To his dismay, he looked down and saw that Hermione was still sitting under the sinks, holding onto her knees and panicking. She was in shock, too afraid to obey Harry's instructions and take advantage of his diversion.

"Hermione!" he shouted, "Go! Now! Run!"

Harry took out his wand but since Professor Quirrell had not yet taught the first years any offensive spells in their Defence Against the Dark Arts classes, he didn't know what to do with it. In an act of desperation, he pushed the wand into the troll's nose. The troll span around on the spot, trying to throw Harry off itself. Harry managed to keep his grip around the troll's neck, but the troll kept turning and Harry began to struggle. Harry felt like he was riding a mechanical bull. Hermione looked distraught.

"Harry!" she gasped.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted as his hands began to separate from each other. "Help!"

Hermione forced herself to take a deep breath and overcome her shock. She pointed her wand at the troll's club.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" she pronounced.

The troll's club shot straight out of its huge hand and moved up towards the ceiling. It stopped moving and the sudden change caused Harry to fall off it. Luckily, Harry was not injured by this fall. The troll looked up to see its club hovering in the air. Then Hermione lowered her wand and the club fell down, hitting the troll in the head. Harry didn't think that it would have been enough to hurt the troll, but clearly it was. The troll swayed to the side and fell over, thankfully not falling on top of either Harry or Hermione.

"That was brilliant, Hermione," Harry complimented. "You saved my life."

"No," disagreed Hermione, "you saved mine. You were only in danger because you came to find me and if you never distracted the troll, I'd be..."

Hermione trailed off, never finished the sentence. Harry then walked over to the unconscious troll and pulled his wand out of its nostril.

"Is it dead?" asked Hermione.

"No," answered Harry, "it shuddered for a second when I took my wand out. It's just out cold."

Harry then examined his wand to see that the contents of the troll's nose were now all over it. He looked at Hermione and visibly grimaced.

"Ugh... That's – that's just... Ew," he mumbled.

He wiped the grey glue-like substance off his wand when the two first years heard footsteps coming in their direction. This time, the footsteps didn't sound like they came from beings that were twelve feet tall. Professor McGonagall, Professor Quirrell and Professor Snape arrived at the scene and saw an unconscious troll, two first year students and a variety of objects that were knocked over in the struggle. Professor Quirrell paled at the sight of the troll and forced himself to breathe deeply. Professor Snape bent over the troll to examine its condition while Professor McGonagall, the Gryffindor Head of House, looked accusingly at the two students.

"What in the world were you two thinking?" she asked, with a tone of voice that could express anger without being loud at all. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory? Explain yourselves!"

Only when she ordered the students to explain themselves did she finally raise her voice. Harry remembered the first time he saw Professor McGonagall, when he promised himself that he would stay on her good side. Unfortunately, he didn't know back then that a troll would one day break into Hogwarts. Hermione was too intimidated by McGonagall to speak. This meant that is was up to Harry to explain the situation to the cross Transfiguration professor.

"We didn't know we were supposed to be in our dormitory, professor," he explained. "We were just here when the troll attacked us."

"You... weren't at the feast?" Professor McGonagall asked in surprise.

"No," confirmed Harry.

Harry didn't let it show, but he was incredibly relieved. Professor McGonagall was realising that neither he nor Hermione had actually done anything wrong. Harry assumed that the students at the feast must have been instructed to go to their dormitories. However, since these two students weren't at the feast, they had no idea that there even was a troll in the school.

"In that case... I suppose you are not at fault," Professor McGonagall told them. "You couldn't have known about the troll. I hope you realise how lucky you are. Not many first year students could take out a fully-grown mountain troll on their own. I suppose I should award you five points each to Gryffindor. Professor Dumbledore will be informed, now please return to your dormitory while we dispose of the troll."

Harry and Hermione obeyed this instruction without question. They discovered that the rest of the Gryffindors were finishing the Halloween feast in the dormitory, so the two young friends each took a plate and treated themselves to a well-earned victory meal.

Meanwhile, Fred and George Weasley were lurking around the many corridors and hallways of Hogwarts. They remembered seeing a dot on the Marauder's Map labeled Harry Potter and they were determined to figure out what was going on.

"There's no sign of our enigmatic friend," pointed out George. "Should we check the map again?"

"Not here," replied Fred. "We can't risk letting anyone see the map. If they knew that we had a map showing the location of every last person in all of Hogwarts, they might think of some preposterous, outlandish theories about us causing mischief. The very idea might be absurd, but that won't stop them from confiscating it."

George was about to speak when he heard voices.

"Can you hear that?" he asked in a hushed whisper. "It's McGonagall."

"Yeah," agreed Fred. "I'd recognise that accent anywhere."

"So would I, Mr Weasley," George said, imitating Professor McGonagall's Scottish accent.

"If there are professors around, we should abort the mission," Fred pointed out. "I have a feeling that Harry Potter isn't going anywhere. We'll just find him on the Marauder's Map later and resume our search."

"Capital idea," agreed George. "Let's get back to our dormitory and lounge around, most definitely not plotting or planning any mischievous activities, certainly not any pranks."

Fred nodded in agreement and the Weasley twins returned to the Gryffindor dormitories, careful not to be seen or heard by any professors. Luckily, after their narrowly-avoided meeting with McGonagall and whoever was with her, they did not run into anybody. The mystery of Harry Potter could wait until another day.


	13. Snape's Secret

**Author's Note:** I'm so sorry for taking so long to update. Ever since I started university this site has only been in the back of my mind, but that's all about to change. I'm just going to make myself push on for now and once I get into the heart of the plot, there's no way I'll be able to just lose interest like that. I still have every intention to finish this and then move onto the sequel. Enjoy the chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _'Harry Potter'_.

* * *

November 8 1991, Hogwarts 

Peter Pettigrew was up to his old tricks again, scurrying across the halls of Hogwarts in his Animagus form. Peter was never the cleverest of wizards, but even he was able to tell that something wasn't right. He was shocked to hear that a fully-grown mountain troll had found its way into Hogwarts, but relieved to find out that Harry was not harmed. Peter then doubled his efforts and spent every waking hour trying to figure out how the troll got into the school. Trolls were extremely unintelligent creatures known mainly for their stupidity. The Wizarding Examinations Commission even had the lowest grade of the OWL and NEWT grading system named after them. If a troll found its way into Hogwarts, then someone must have helped it. Peter was determined to find out who the culprit was.

He has made it a sort of ritual to lurk around the school both day and night, eavesdropping on other people's private conversations and trying to overhear any references to the three-headed dog that was guarding something on the third floor of the school. One of the best places to do so was the staffroom. The teachers of Hogwarts clearly knew what was going on and they were certainly not going to discuss it in front of any students. The staffroom was one of the few places where they could talk to each other without being surrounded by students. When Professor Snape uttered the password and entered the staffroom on the eighth of November, the rat Animagus took the opportunity to slip into the room without the Potions Master's knowledge.

The only other member of staff in the staffroom at the time was the caretaker, Mr Filch. Peter crawled to the corner of the room and hid as Professor Snape and Mr Filch, two of the coldest personalities in the school, conversed.

"Professor Snape," greeted Mr Filch in a sneering voice.

"My bandages need changing," explained Professor Snape concisely. "Did you bring everything I requested from Madam Pomfrey's supplies?"

"I did," confirmed Mr Filch. "I still don't understand why you can't just go to Pomfrey yourself."

Professor Snape didn't answer the caretaker's question at first. He remained silent as he lifted his robes above his knee to reveal a heavily bandaged leg. He gently unwrapped the bandage and Peter saw the gruesome injury on his leg. However, the wound didn't look like the result of a scratch or a fall. More than anything else, it looked like a bite.

"There are students in the the Hospital Wing, Filch," Professor Snape eventually explained, speaking very slowly as if he were speaking to an five-year-old. "One of them would doubtlessly overhear something. If I know anything about mundane, useless school gossip, rumours of my current condition would spread like the plague."

Peter knew from Snape's initial hesitation that there was more to it than that. As he watched Filch replace the bandage on Snape's leg, he wondered what had happened to Snape's leg and why he was so determined to hide it. In the end, there was only one conclusion that Peter cold have possibly arrived at. Severus Snape had something to do with the events of Halloween night. He smuggled the troll into the school to distract the rest of the staff. It made sense. After all, Snape's classroom was in the dungeons, where Professor Quirrell found the troll. The whole thing was a diversion. While the teachers were dealing with the troll, Snape tried to get past the three-headed dog. The Potions Master wanted whatever the vicious hound was guarding.

* * *

November 10 1991, Hogwarts

Fred and George Weasley agreed that after ten days of biding their time, it was finally time for them to resume the search for the Wizarding World's missing savior, Harry Potter. Last week on Halloween night, they saw Potter's name on the Marauder's Map, a magical document that showed the name and location of every last person in Hogwarts. The map had never been wrong before, so it was to be assumed that Harry Potter was in the castle.

"Are you ready, brother dear?" asked an enthusiastic Fred.

"I do believe I am prepared," replied an enthralled George.

"Mark the day George" started Fred. "The tenth of November 1991, the day upon which the famous Weasley twins crack the greatest mystery in the history of the Wizarding World. We will find out what the bloody hell happened to Harry Potter ten years ago."

"Indeed," agreed George, "although we aren't the famous Weasley twins. We're the infamous Weasley twins."

"No," disagreed Fred, "the famous Weasley twins."

"The infamous Weasley twins."

"The famous Weasley twins."

"The infamous Weasley twins."

"The famous Weasley twins."

"We can finish this discussion later," said George, quelling the tension of the argument. "For now, let's focus on finding Harry Potter. We have to assume that he's still in Hogwarts. We'll keep searching the Marauder's Map until we find his name. Then we go and investigate."

"Sounds like a plan," announced Fred as he rummaged through his trunk, in search of the aforementioned map.

"Come on then," George said. "Get the map so we can start."

Fred looked at his brother, "It's gone."

What the Weasley twins didn't foresee was that a certain rat Animagus had overheard them mention the map in the corridors of Hogwarts when they thought they were alone. This rat was one of the creators of the map and realised that it would lead the twins to Harry Potter. The rat crawled into their dormitories while all the students were at class. It reverted to its human form just long enough to take the map and hide it where the Weasley twins wouldn't find it.

Peter Pettigrew stole the Marauder's Map.

* * *

November 11 1991, Hogwarts Astronomy Tower

Harry and Hermione had just finished their homework on a particularly difficult Monday. They bid each other goodnight and went to their respective dormitories for an early night's sleep. However, something caught Harry's attention. It was his book, The Art of Alchemy by Nicolas Flamel. Harry could have sworn that he left that book inside his trunk, but he found the book laying open on top of the trunk. The Boy-Who-Lived turned the book over to check which page in was open on and as expected, it was page forty-two. That was the signal from Peter. Harry's adoptive father wanted to meet him on top of the Astronomy Tower at midnight, just as they did last month.

_So much for an early night._

Ten minutes before midnight, Harry checked that Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean were asleep. To his relief, they were. He tiptoed out of the dormitory and made his way over to the astronomy tower, still dressed in his pyjamas and a dressing gown. Luckily, he did not see any sign of Mr Filch or Mrs Norris on the way. He walked up the staircase to the very top of the tower where he saw a familiar rat.

"Hello Harry," said the rat after it had returned to human form.

"What is is, Peter?" asked a confused Harry. "This better be important if you're making me sneak out of the castle at midnight for it?"

"Harry," began Peter, "do you remember the last time we met? I told you about the three-headed dog that I think is guarding something in the castle? Well, I saw a certain Potions Master tending to his injured leg. I think that he got injured on Halloween when you were attacked by that troll. He must have let the troll into Hogwarts as a diversion while he tried to get past the dog."

Harry didn't know what to think. He always saw Snape as a cruel person and a horrible professor, but he never thought that the Potions Master would be a criminal. Surely Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him unless he was certain of his loyalties? However, as soon as Peter mentioned the idea of Snape having a secret agenda in Hogwarts, Harry found himself believing it.

"Snape?" asked Harry. "Are you saying that Snape is after whatever the three-headed dog is guarding?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," confirmed Peter. "Snape always had an... affinity... for dark magic back in his school days. At first he just wanted to learn a few nasty hexes to use on your father. Then he started... experimenting. We always saw him hanging around the like of Avery and Mulciber, both of whom became Death Eaters. They probably taught Snape everything they knew. Whatever the dog is guarding, it's dangerous. I don't know why Dumbledore trusts him, but I do know that it won't be good if Snape gets past the dog."

Peter felt very self-conscious when judging Snape this harshly, especially considering the fact that he never told Harry that he was a former Death Eater himself. Telling Harry half-truths had become natural for Peter... a little too natural. Peter shuddered to think what would happen if Harry ever found out the full story about how his parents were killed.

"I know we're trying to keep our heads low," continued Peter, "but I think this is too important for us to ignore it. We have to investigate."

"How? I'm a schoolboy, not Sherlock Holmes," retorted Harry, referring to a Muggle fictional character whom he used to read about.

"Do you remember when I used to tell you all those stories about your father's school days?" asked Peter. "I told you about the Marauder's Map, a map that shows the location of everyone in Hogwarts. It's under your pillow right now. I found it in the hands of Fred and George Weasley. I took it to stop them from discovering your true identity. You can use it to investigate. To open it, just tap it with your want and say "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." When you're finished, use the password "mischief managed" to turn it back into an ordinary piece of parchment."

Harry didn't know how to react as he was bombarded by all this brand new information. He remembered hearing stories from Peter about the Marauder's Map and usually he would be overjoyed to hear that it was now his, but he didn't feel very happy right now. He was annoyed at Peter for giving him this top secret mission. All Harry wanted was an ordinary life at school. However, he decided that if this was as important as Peter made it out to be, then it would be unwise to ignore it.

"Okay," replied Harry as he took Peter's instructions in. "I'll figure out how to use this map and I'll use it to keep an eye on Snape. I'll give you the usual signal if I discover anything."

"Good," approved Peter, "so how is school going?"

"It's midnight, Peter," Harry pointed out. "I'm not in the mood to chat."

Harry didn't mean to sound so harsh but he was annoyed that Peter was involving him in his investigation. He didn't blame Peter for anything, but he was angry nonetheless. Perhaps part of him was still angry at Peter for coming to Hogwarts without asking Harry first, which certainly didn't exactly send the message that Peter trusted him.

"Fair point," replied Peter. "You should get back to bed. It is a school day tomorrow, after all. Keep an eye out for Filch and his cat, won't you? I'm counting on you to win the House Cup."

Peter gave Harry a quick wink before reverting into a rat and scurrying away. Harry made the journey back to his dormitory. Just like his last midnight meeting, he had to wake the Fat Lady in order to give her the password. The Fat Lady wasn't happy about it, but Harry didn't care. He was just grateful that neither Filch nor the professors bothered to ever confer with the portraits to find out which students leave their Houses' towers at night. He quietly tiptoed back into bed and fell asleep within minutes.


	14. The Mirror of Erised

**Author's Note:** Here's chapter 14. We're getting towards the end of Book 1 now.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Harry Potter'.

* * *

December 25 1991, Hogwarts 

It was Christmas morning and Harry was awoken by the sound of Ron's excited voice screaming "Presents! Presents! Presents!"

It had been a month and a half since Harry was given the Marauder's Map by Peter. Since then, he had not discovered anything about the vicious three-headed dog or whatever it was guarding. He tried looking at the Marauder's Map several times, but there were so many people in Hogwarts, so many names passing over each other, that he never noticed anything out of the ordinary. There was a name on the map that never seemed to stay away from Professor Quirrell, but Harry didn't think it was anything suspicious. Still, even if it had not proven useful yet, Harry was delighted to have the map in his possession. It was the only thing of his father's that he had at this point. He kept it close to him at all times and never told anyone about it, not even Hermione.

Right now, the three-headed dog was the last thing on Harry's mind. It was Christmas and Harry wanted to enjoy it just as an average eleven-year-old boy would. In addition to this, it was his first time spending Christmas with wizards his own age. He wanted to enjoy it and not be bothered by the constant doom and gloom that Peter was thrusting upon him.

"Ugh," Ron groaned as he unwrapped a Christmas present from his mother, revealing a maroon jumper. "When will my mum learn that I hate maroon?"

Harry received a fair few presents, including a book that Peter must have left during the night as well as a box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.

"You're probably wondering how I managed to get you a present when we've been in school since September," announced Hermione." I realised that I wouldn't get a chance to buy Christmas presents from inside the school, so I bought them a few months in advance when we went to Diagon Alley. Aren't I a clever girl?"

"Yes," laughed Harry, "but you're not the only clever one."

Harry produced a neatly-wrapped present, which Hermione eagerly unwrapped to reveal a book about the Goblin Rebellion of 1612. Harry knew that Hermione was the only first year who was able to stay awake during Professor Binns' History of Magic classes, so Harry decided to buy her a book on the ghost's favourite subject. Harry assumed that Hermione was under the impression that he bought her the book before the school year began, just like how Hermione bought Harry's present. In reality, Harry asked Peter to slip out of the school in rat form and buy the present in the nearby village of Hogsmeade, using a Glamour Charm whenever he reverted to human form. Luckily, Peter knew a secret passage in and out of the school that led the user from the Whomping Willow in Hogwarts to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade Village.

"Thank you, Harry," said Hermione in glee as she turned the book over to read the blurb. "Did you get many other presents?"

"Just a book from my... dad," answered Harry, almost referring to Peter as his guardian rather than his father. Harry almost blew his cover again. He had to remember that as far as everyone else knew, he was Harry Owens and Peter was his father Peter Owens. "It looks interesting. You can borrow it when I'm not using it."

"Sounds like a plan," replied Hermione. "I'm just going to the toilet. I'll be back soon."

Harry decided to briefly return to his dormitory. All the other Gryffindors were busy celebrating Christmas in the common room, so the Boy Who Lived was alone. After making sure that nobody was listening in, he took out the Marauder's Map and quietly muttered the password, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The map expanded and Harry was soon looking at a map of Hogwarts. He saw the dot representing Hermione entering the girl's bathroom. He saw Hagrid's dot on the edge of the grounds. He saw Dumbledore's and Snape's dots standing next to each other in the Headmaster's office, with Peter's dot hiding in the corner of the room, presumably in rat form. He saw Professor Flitwick's dot in the Great Hall, presumably eating his breakfast. He saw the dots representing Fred and George Weasley right outside the Slytherin common room, most likely preparing some cruel practical joke. Harry was just about to put the map away when he noticed something very odd in a part of the castle which he had never been to before. It was Professor Quirrell, walking across a corridor. However, right on top of the dot labelled Quirinus Quirrell was another dot, following Quirrell from one end of the corridor to the other.

**Tom Riddle**

Harry frowned. He had seen the name Tom Riddle on the map a couple of times now, always right beside Professor Quirrell. Apart from seeing it on the Marauder's Map, Harry had never heard of Riddle's name before. Until now, Harry assumed that Riddle was just a student who was struggling at Defence Against the Dark Arts, so he was constantly pestering Professor Quirrell for help. However, this was different. It was the morning of Christmas Day. No student, not even Hermione, even dreamed of studying today. Harry was now suspicious. He memorised the route to Quirrell and tapped the Marauder's Map with his wand.

"Mischief managed," he muttered.

The map recognised the password and sealed itself. Harry folded it up so it would fit in the pocket of his robes. He knew that he had to investigate. He would find out who this mysterious Tom Riddle character was, then report to Peter at night. He was on his way to Quirrell when he passed Hermione, who was on her way back from the bathroom.

"Hi," greeted Hermione, "where are you going?"

"Me?" improved Harry. "I'm just going... to get some breakfast. I won't be long."

"Do you want me to come with you?" asked Hermione, ignoring a deep instinct that told her that something was wrong.

"Nah," answered Harry, "I'll only be a minute. I'll see you when I get back."

Harry ran off leaving a confused Hermione behind. Harry left in the direction of the Great Hall. When he was sure that Hermione had returned to the common room, he changed his direction and ran after Quirrell. When he got to the exact spot that Quirrell was standing the last time Harry checked the map, he was disappointed. There was nobody there. Harry would have to risk using the map again. If any professors happened to see him with it, they would confiscate it or worse, ask him where he found it. All the same, Harry had no choice. He had to find out what was going on. He walked into a nearby classroom for privacy and took out the map. The only object of interest in the room was a large mirror. Harry would usually look at it more closely, but his mind was on other things at this precise moment. He uttered the password to the Marauder's Map.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The map opened and revealed that Harry had no need to search for Quirrel, because the turban-wearing professor was on walking in Harry's direction, with this mysterious Tom Riddle coming along with him. Harry quickly closed the map.

"Mischief managed," he whispered as quietly as he could.

He put the map in his pocket and popped his head out of the doorway. He saw Professor Quirrell walking past, but there was no sign of Tom Riddle. The name was on the map, but this person didn't seem to exist.

"Look sharp, Owens," said Professor Quirrell to Harry. "What were you doing in there anyway?"

"I just needed to be somewhere quiet sir," Harry replied, hoping that he sounded at least remotely convincing.

"I see," said Quirrell. "Well, I daresay your friends will be looking for you. Don't take long."

"Yes sir," responded Harry.

Quirrell walked on and Harry stayed where he was. Harry tapped his wand to the map, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

As the blank piece of parchment began to turn into a map of the school, Harry heard Quirrell's voice from the distance.

"Oh, and Mr Owens?" he said.

Harry looked at Quirrell and hid the self-writing piece of parchment behind his back. "Yes sir?"

"Merry Christmas," Quirrell smiled at Harry then turned away, returning to his own affairs.

Harry returned to the unused classroom and looked at the map, which was now fully activated. Harry saw Quirrell's dot moving away from his own. Tom Riddle was still apparently next to him, practically on top of him. Harry was utterly befuddled. He just saw that Quirrell was alone. This Riddle person didn't seem to exist. _Could the map be faulty, or is there something suspicious going on?_

Harry deactivated the map, "Mischief managed."

He was just about to leave the classroom when his eyes focused on the large mirror that stood in the middle of it. The mirror was huge, almost tall enough to reach the ceiling. The design looked old, yet the mirror was in great shape. It was more than just clean. It was spotless. It must have been charmed to stay that way, which made it stand out in this untidy, decrepit classroom. At the top of the mirror, there was typography carved into the golden frame.

_ Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_

The lettering didn't make any kind of sense to Harry. However, something wonderful happened when Harry looked closely at his reflection. He saw himself, but the mirror did not reflect his Glamour Charms. Harry looked into the mirror and saw his true reflection. He saw a boy with dark hair and a scar shaped like a lightning bolt. He was looking at Harry Potter, not Harry Owens. He was out in public with his real appearance, something that he could never do in reality. Harry was standing next to Peter, who was also standing there as his true self, without any Glamour Charms or disguises. Harry also noticed that Peter's missing finger was intact in the mirror's reflection.

What fascinated Harry was not the reflection of himself or Peter, but the two people standing next to them. There was a woman and a man, looking through the glass at Harry and smiling. The woman had dark red hair and green eyes. The man looked just like Harry, except older. It only took a moment for Harry to realise who these people were. James and Lily Potter. Harry's parents.

"Mum?" he whispered, "Dad?"

His parents smiled at him and gently smiled. Harry sat there, looking at his parents for the first time in his life.

* * *

December 27 1991, Hogwarts 

Two long days had passed since Harry first encountered this enigmatic mirror. He spent most of Christmas Day and all of Boxing Day staring at the mirror and imagining what his life might have been like if fate had not been so cruel. Harry thought back to the story Peter told him about his parents' deaths. He wondered what his life would have been like if Sirius Black never betrayed his parents and revealed their hiding place to Lord Voldemort. If only...

Now it was the twenty-seventh of December and Harry was still unable to think about anything except the mysterious mirror. Hermione and his other friends were beginning to worry where he was disappearing to every day. Harry didn't care though. Not yet. He just wanted to see his parents.

"Back again, Mr Owens?"

Harry jumped as he heard the voice coming from behind him. The Boy Who Lived turned around and saw the bearded figure of Professor Albus Dumbledore. When Harry entered the room, he never even realised that he was there.

"Sir... I'm sorry, I didn't see you," Harry stuttered.

This was Harry's first one-on-one conversation with Dumbledore. If Harry's secret was ever going to be discovered, Harry believed it would most likely be Dumbledore who works it out. Harry made a promise to himself that he would be careful and not speak without thinking first.

"It is strange, isn't it?" Dumbledore began. "How being in a rush can expose one's priorities."

Harry nodded, not fully understanding what Dumbledore was talking about.

"I see you, like hundreds of other students before you, have discovered the infinite grandeur of the Mirror of Erised," Dumbledore spoke softly. "I trust you have worked out what it does."

Harry shook his head quickly. He had no idea why this mirror was showing him images of his parents. He did not even know until this point that the mirror had a name.

"Let me give you a clue then," Dumbledore started. "The happiest man on Earth would look at it and see only his reflection, just like a normal mirror. He would see himself exactly as he is. If that doesn't help, try reading the inscription backwards."

Harry did as Dumbledore asked and read the carved letters from right to left. _I show not your face but your heart's desire._ That was when Harry understood what the Mirror of Erised truly was.

"It shows us our heart's desire... what we want... whatever we want," Harry explained, to himself more than anyone else.

This made perfect sense to Harry. Harry was grateful to have Peter as his guardian, but he still wished that he could have known his true family. He wished that he could be himself in public. He wished that Peter could enjoy life without living in a recluse, pretending to be dead out of fear that he would be hunted down by the surviving Death Eaters if he revealed himself. He wanted a world where Voldemort never impacted on his life. While such a world was ideal, Harry knew in his heart that it was not possible. The damage was already done. His parents were dead and nothing that anyone could ever do would change that fact.

"Indeed. There is not a dream in the world that this mirror can not show us, but that is all it can do. It can show us flashes, mere images the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts but it cannot truly realise them," Dumbledore explained. "That, I believe, is what makes it so dangerous."

Harry looked at Dumbledore with a puzzled expression, so the headmaster continued, "People have become obsessed, almost entranced, by the mirror. They have wasted away before it and watched their lives pass them by. Some have even been driven mad by the uncertainty of whether or not the desire they see before them is possible."

"The Mirror of Erised offers us neither truth nor wisdom," Dumbledore said as he looked at Harry with a stern yet sympathetic look. "Tomorrow it will be moved to a new location and I will ask you not to go looking for it. If you happen to come across it, you will be better prepared and you know not to dwell on whatever it might show you. You must return to reality."

"Yes," agreed Harry, "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."

Harry turned to leave the room, but the headmaster called him back.

"Mr Owens," he called, "Might I enquire, merely out of curiosity, what did you see in the mirror?"

Harry avoided eye contact with Dumbledore, knowing that he was waiting for an opportunity to use Legilimency on him.

"Are you willing to tell me yours, sir?" Harry said in response.

Dumbledore paused for a second before replying, "Fair point. Off you go then. Your friend Miss Granger must be worried about you after these last couple of days."

Harry nodded and left the room. He rushed up to his dormitory and looked for his Alchemy book. He found it in his trunk, then placed it on top of the trunk. He left the dormitory, leaving the book open on page forty-two. That was the signal that he would meet Peter at midnight on top of the Astronomy Tower. He was going to speak to Peter that night and hopefully solve the mystery of the man who never existed. He was going to find out who Tom Riddle was.


End file.
